


Just Friends

by Anboringday



Category: Grand Theft Auto V
Genre: Best Friends, F/M, Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Hurt/Comfort, Romance, Slow Burn, post ending C
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-17
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-09 02:40:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 35,876
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27067270
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Anboringday/pseuds/Anboringday
Summary: Tracey De Santa, a college freshman, has a crush on the most popular boy on campus, Chad Dillington. Determined to win his heart, she turns to her best friend Franklin Clinton for help. However, she never expected to start developing feelings for her best friend instead...
Relationships: Franklin Clinton/Tracey De Santa
Comments: 9
Kudos: 26





	1. Chapter 1

Franklin barreled through the door of my room.

Carefully applying my eyeliner in the mirror, I glanced at him. Chiseled jaw clenched and hands balled into fists, a frown marred the space between his arrogantly shaped brows. His strong, muscled arms wired tight beneath his white T-shirt, he stood at the ready for battle.

His cognac-brown eyes searched my room from top to bottom for unknown threats. “Tracey? You good?”

“Um, _duh_. I’m always fine.” I returned my attention to my makeup. “I’m gonna need you to tone down some of that masculinity. It’s totally uncalled for, super distracting, and it’s ruining my good vibes—”

His warm hand came down on my shoulder. I stiffened, his eyes shrewd and accessing as they bored into me. “You sent me a text saying that you were dying, that you needed my help. You sure you good?”

His voice was soft, filled with concern. My gut kicked. Maybe I shouldn’t have sent that overly dramatic text, but desperate times called for desperate measures. I needed help. Badly. Dad was always busy doing movie director stuff, Mom was too preoccupied with shopping and yoga, and Jimmy was a complete idiot, so Franklin was the only person I could rely on.

It’s been that way for months. He picked me up from school, assisted with my homework, helped me take selfies for Bleeter, talked me through every one of my frequent mental breakdowns—he was a life saver, _literally_. Because he was so selflessly awesome, I decided to keep him around. Mostly because he did stuff for me, but he also had a nice personality to boot.

And we looked _hella_ good together. Whenever we were out and about in the city, people would stop and turn their heads to gawk at our beauty. I was a celebrity after all, the sexiest girl in Los Santos according to my Bleeter stalkers. And Franklin was powerfully built, dark-haired with stunningly amber eyes. He was a man who looked absolutely gorgeous just about every day of his life. It seemed effortless for him, and I would’ve resented that if weren’t besties. 

I confessed, “I lied to get you here, okay?”

“Tracey…” Sighing, he pinched the bridge of his nose. “You scared the shit outta me, girl. What were you thinking—”

“Don’t be mad. I’m sorry.” I hugged him.

The tension in his muscles relaxed beneath my touch. I took his hand and flopped down on my bed. He sat beside me, our fingers intertwined. “A’ight, Trace. I’m here now, so what’s going on with you?”

“I have news,” I smiled. “The _best_ news. You’re not gonna believe this, but Chad Dillington asked me on a date!”

He stared at me, his expression blank.

“Well?” I tapped his shoulder. “Say something! Aren’t you excited for me?”

“Who the fuck is Chad Dillington?” he asked.

“Are you kidding me?” Energy thrumming through me, I jumped to my feet. “He’s like the hottest, most popular guy at my university! He’s a quarterback for the football team, a committed member of the Alpha Omega Theta Pi—”

“The Alpha Omega what?”

“It’s a fraternity, Frank! Chad Dillington is a big effing deal, literally every chick on campus wants to bone him. He has the prettiest blue eyes and the cutest smile ever.” I twirled on my heels. “I can’t believe he chose _me_ of all people to go on a date with. This is so, like, amazing!”

“That’s cool, I guess.” He shrugged. “You called me over here just to tell me that?”

“No! If there’s any hope in winning Chad Dillington’s heart, I’ll need support. _Your_ support and guidance, in particular.”

His brows furrowed. “Uh…why?”

“Because you can help me understand him! Guys know what other guys are thinking, right? You and Chad have so much in common too. You’re both around the same age, you both like getting sweaty at the gym, you both like getting high—”

“No offense, Trace, but me and that preppy ass frat boy ain’t got shit in common. I’m sorry, but I’m finna pass on this one. Maybe one of yo’ friends at school can help you.” He stood and took off for the door.

“Wait!” I swerved in front of him, blocking the exit with outstretched arms. “You’re right, there are some stuff you and Chad don’t have in common. Like, for example, he’s way smarter than you and his parents are filthy rich.”

Franklin glared a hole into me, a muscle in his jaw twitched. _Yikes. Probably shouldn’t have said that._

“But you’re sane,” I complimented. “Sensible, wise beyond your years, and levelheaded. You’re playing with a full deck, Frank. That’s a rarity in Los Santos, you know? Everyone here is crazy.”

“Including you,” he snapped.

“But you love me.” I hugged his muscled arm. “You’re like the ping to my pong, the yin to my yang, the butter to my bread, the chocolate to my milkshake…”

“That was cute until you mentioned the part about chocolate. Now it’s weird.”

“Frank, you have to help me!” I pleaded desperately; my mouth set in a pout. “I’m your best friend, you _can’t_ abandon me when I need you most. It’s not fair! I’ll hate you forever if you do—”

He smothered my mouth with his palm, silencing me. “Fine, I’ll help you on one condition. No more whining and crying like a damn baby, it’s embarrassing. Makes my ears bleed, it’s horrible.”

I smacked his hand away. “Deal. Now shut up and listen.” Standing on the tip of my toes, I spoke quietly into his ear. “Chad invited me to a masquerade ball. It’s a top secret, invitation only party the fraternity is hosting at some old, underground speakeasy—”

“Girl, why you whispering?”

“Because it’s a secret. Mom and Dad can’t know about this, they’ll freak out. Promise me you won’t tell them. You know how overprotective they are, they never let me have any fun.”

“It’s all good, relax. Your secret is safe with me.”

“Swear on it.” I rose my pinky.

“I promise.” His finger curled around mine. “So the most popular douche bag motherfucker in school invites you to an invitation only masquerade ball…”

“Could you refrain from calling him a ‘douche bag motherfucker’, please?” I rolled my eyes. “Anyway, all the cool kids are gonna be there. The party is happening _this_ weekend. Friday night. I only have two days to prepare. This is so short notice, I haven’t even picked out a dress.”

“Hey, you could always cancel.”

“ _No!_ A date with Chad Dillington is a once in a lifetime opportunity. I can’t back out now. I have to do this.” My stomach grew queasy and my hands wouldn’t stop shaking. I paced the room, my fingers laced taut until my knuckles turned white. “What if I screw everything up? What if he doesn’t like me?”

Franklin appeared in front of me. I jerked to a halt, riveted to the spot as his searching gaze burned into me, glimmering with golden flecks. Lost in the intensity of his eyes, something shifted in the air between us.

As he stared back, he changed…as if the impalpable wall he kept between us began to chip and splinter. His tough, guarded demeanor crumbled before me, revealing a soft vulnerability in his eyes. A tenderness I had no clue he was capable of.

He patted my shoulder and squeezed lightly, affectionately. My skin tingled from the warm, steady pressure of his touch. “Of course the frat boy is feelin’ you,” he said softly. “He’d be crazy not to.”

My cheeks heated. Since when did he become so flattering? “You’re just saying that to make me feel better,” I mumbled.

“Nah. I mean it.” He reached into his pocket for his phone and started tapping away at the keyboard.

I peeked at the screen. “What are you doing?”

“If you’re going to a ball, you gotta know how to dance.” He pulled up a Bleeter video of dancers clad in silk doing the Waltz. “Think you can do that?”

“Uh, I dunno. Last time I tried to slow dance with a guy was at high school prom. I slipped and twisted my ankle in front of everyone. Super embarrassing.”

“Let’s make sure you don’t trip this Friday, a’ight? We can practice together.” He propped his phone on my desk and took my hand in his, the other rested on the small of my back. “You ready?”

Our eyes locked, I nodded weakly, my breath coming in short and fast. The contact was electric, I could feel the edgy energy radiating from him—like a magnetic _pull_ that grew harder to reject by the second. He started moving, his strapping body gliding across the carpeted floor with confidence and easy rhythm. Jeez, when did he get so good at this? _He was a natural!_ My knees wobbly, I followed his lead to the best of my ability.

I felt so small and insignificant in comparison to him, my movement stiff and awkward. And it didn’t help that I was petite, barely over five feet, and he was _huge—_ a tall, deep brown slab of solid muscle and well-exercised strength. The force of his presence was difficult to ignore in a crowded room, and doubly so in an enclosed place like this, so close to me… 

After a few beats, the heat of his direct, prolonged gaze became overwhelming. I lowered my head shyly.

“Chin up,” he instructed, tipping my head upward with a gentle push of his thumb under my chin.

Sucking in a harsh breath from the mind-boggling intimacy, I lost my footing and tripped over my own feet. He caught me in his arms just before I collided with the floor, his strong-featured face hovered over mine. Hit with all that striking masculinity at eye-level, I could only stare. Stunned. His beard was well-groomed, complimenting the hard lines of his square cut jaw, and his lips were like the icing on the cake…the fullness gave his rugged good looks the perfect touch of sensuality.

He helped me to my feet. “That wasn’t part of the dance, Trace.”

“No shit, Sherlock.” Pinching my lips together, I kicked a tube of old nail polish across the floor. “I’m never going to get this right. I’m so screwed.”

“It ain’t the end of the world. You still got time. Don’t give up, girl.”

“I wish I could be as optimistic as you are.” I sighed. “I’m sorry for being a bitch. There’s a lot of pressure on me and I’m taking it out on you.”

“It’s all good. I’m used to you being bitchy. I’m used to the screaming temper tantrums—when you beat yo’ fists against the floor and your legs start flailing like a fish outta water…” He grinned.

My stomach dropped. “It’s not funny.”

His laughter quickly faded. “My bad.”

An awkward silence filled the room. Twisting a finger around the hem of my blouse, I broke the quiet. “I’ve been working on my temperament with Doctor Friedlander. Do you think I’m getting any better?”

He leaned against the wall, his hands tucked casually into his jean pockets. “You haven’t had any episodes recently.”

“Because you calm me down right before I snap. Every time.”

“Why waste so much bread on therapy then? You’ve been seeing a therapist for what? Years? And you were still having panic attacks until…”

“Until you came along,” I completed his sentence. “I don’t want to become so dependent on you, Frank. It’s like, totally unfair to you.”

“Shit, I don’t mind. I ain’t going nowhere, unless you want me to—”

“ _No!_ ” My heart lurched at the thought of losing him. Shocked by the fury of my reaction, I took a careful step away from him. “You wouldn’t leave me. You’d miss me too much.”

He stared at me for a moment, silent and thoughtful, his brow quirked.

I tensed. “Why are you looking at me like that?”

“Uh, no reason.” He lifted the brim of his black Los Santos snapback to scratch his head. “I should probably bounce. It’s getting late, and you got class in the morning.”

“Wait.” I passed him his phone and gave him a brief good-bye hug. “Do you think you could give me some guitar lessons after school tomorrow? Music class is kinda kicking my ass. I could use the extra help.”

“Yeah. Of course. No problem.” He chuckled, seemingly nervous for some reason. “I ain’t the best with the guitar, but uh, I know a few things so…”

“Are you kidding? You’re _way_ better at it than me.”

“ _Slightly_ better.” His teeth gleamed in a smile. “A’ight. I’ll hit you up tomorrow.”

I was a little bummed about him leaving, but he was right. I needed the rest so I could wake up bright and early tomorrow. I returned a smile. “Bye, Frank.”

“Bye, Trace.” He turned to leave but stopped at the door, his gaze shifted to me. “By the way, you don’t have to lie to get me here. You ain’t gotta send no dramatic texts or nothin’ crazy like that. If you need to see me, whatever the reason, just…call. I’ll be here in a heartbeat.” 

A pang struck my heart. I swallowed deep, fumbling for words. Before I managed to find my words, he was gone.

With a heavy sigh, I collapsed on my bed. What was the matter with me? Why were my brain cells starting to fry around Franklin? I had a huge date planned with Chad Dillington, but for some reason, I couldn’t stop thinking about my best friend.

My phone vibrated on my nightstand. I grabbed it and found two new texts from Franklin.

**_Still thinking bout how tripped over your own damn feet earlier._ **

**_Girl, you clumsy._ **

Oh my god. With an embarrassed grin, I texted him back; **_Wow. You sure know just what to say to boost a girl’s confidence :P_**

He responded a minute later. **_What if I told you that I like when you’re clumsy? I get to pick you up whenever you fall._**

I read the message with wide eyes and then powered down my phone, my nerves danced wildly in my stomach. There was an ache in my chest, and I rubbed at it. Jeez. _Pull yourself together, Tracey…_

***

A flood of cheery sunshine dappled over the broad university campus. A mass of students piled in on the cobblestone walkway rushing to class, while others lounged in the fresh-cut grass with friends, either studying or just enjoying the warm weather. The sound of Franklin strumming away on his guitar blended in nicely with the birdsong and chatter. Sitting cross-legged on the ground with Chop stretched across my lap, I laid my head on Franklin’s shoulder.

“I hate this shit,” he grumbled, glaring at the sheet music as he played. “There’s so many different ways to play the same motherfuckin’ note. It’s annoying.”

“Uh-huh,” I said, absorbing the pleasant sound of his music. “Keep it up. The better you get at reading that crap, the better you can teach me.”

“Yeah, yeah.”

My phone chirped. I pulled it out of my purse and blindsided by a dick pic from Chad effing Dillington. My jaw dropped. It kinda looked like a mutated duck, the excessive amount of blonde pubes were the feathers, and the beak was the flabby foreskin. _Yikes._ I really hope he planned on shaving that monster before Friday.

“Frank!” I exclaimed, shoving my phone in his face. “Look! Chad sent me a dick pic! It looks like a duck. You think it quacks like one too?”

“What the fuck?” Glowering, he swatted my phone away. “I don’t wanna see that nasty shit.”

“Cover me. I’m gonna respond with a boob pic.” I lifted my shirt.

Franklin caught my wrist. “Are you outside yo’ damn mind? Look around you, girl. What do you see?”

I shrugged. “People?”

“Yes. A lot of people. We in _public_. That means your clothes _stay_ on, and you keep them little ass titties where they belong—inside yo’ bra.”

“You’re totally overreacting. I’m only gonna show him one titty. He’s gotta wait for the full package. What do I look like? A whore?” I pulled away from him. “And my boobs are not ‘little’, thank you very much.”

Franklin rolled his eyes and returned his attention to the guitar. “Your boyfriend has a jungle dick, Trace. The cursed image is permanently ingrained in my head. I’ll probably have nightmares about that shit tonight.”

I froze. “A jungle dick? What’s that?”

“Okay. Let me explain.” He shifted to face me. “Imagine a jungle. It’s a dark, damp, breathing environment teeming with all kinds of living things—fungus, germs, blood sucking parasites, beetles, spiders, and cockroaches…now imagine all that creepy shit crawling in your man’s pubes. On his dick.” He pointed at the picture on my phone. “Look at that dirty ass jungle! You can’t tell me that motherfucker don’t got aids, syphilis, and gonorrhea hiding in there like a three for the price of one deal.”

“Oh my god, Frank!” Giggling, I punched his shoulder. “You’re such an idiot.”

“His shit looks like it’s ‘bout to rot off any second now,” he continued. “Chad might have some flesh-eating bacteria buried in there—”

I slapped my palm over his mouth. “Shut up before someone hears you. He’s _super_ popular, remember?” Chop abruptly jumped out of my lap and darted for the butterflies flitting among the flowers. A big, unleashed Rottweiler running around campus was bound to spook people. I went after him. “Chop! Wait up!”

I caught Chop by the collar just before he swiped a sandwich out of some guy’s hand. When I turned around, Franklin was surrounded by three svelte brunettes in high waisted shirts and plaid skirts. Once I noticed their matching outfits and perfectly curled hair, my blood ran cold. It was Claire and her two brained-washed lackeys, Molly and Amy. The most popular bitches on campus. And also, the meanest.

Claire was _way_ too close to Franklin for comfort, her dirty claw of a hand stroked his chest. My blood boiled. I stormed up to them and grabbed my best friend by the arm, pulling him away. “Fly away like the bird you are, Claire,” I spat. “My friend isn’t interested in basic bitches.”

Towering over me in her overly expensive high heels, Claire’s red rouged lips twisted into a smirk. “Well, well, if isn't the washed-up celebrity slut from Rockford Hills, Tracey De Santa. Your father’s movies _suck_. They’re a real eyesore. And so are you.”

Her posse of tramps laughed in unison. And so did a couple students nearby. Red-faced and thoroughly embarrassed, I shrunk closer to Franklin.

“I heard you had a thing for Chad Dillington,” she continued. “News flash, he’s out of your league, freshman. Stay in your lane, bitch, before I straighten you out myself.”

Claire sauntered off with toss of her windblown hair, her followers scrambled at her heels. 

“Damn,” Franklin cringed. “If this is what college is like, I’m glad my black ass dropped out of high school. I wouldn’t last a day with all this drama, I’d kill a motherfucker.”

There were eyes staring at me from every direction. Judging me. Pointing fingers. Laughing. Tears came rolling down my face in a torrent and I couldn’t stop them. My chest on the verge of caving in on itself, I dropped everything and bolted. I didn’t stop running until I was cloaked in shadows, hidden from prying eyes beneath the muddy football field bleachers. Completely alone.

 _This royally sucks_. I was such a loser, and now everyone knew it. My breaths came in gasps, my heart hammered against my chest like it was going to burst. A surge of pain welled up inside me. Needing an outlet, I stomped on the ground repeatedly in a fit. _Ugh._ Why do things like this always happen to _me? It’s not fair!_

“Tracey!” Franklin found me, his hand captured mine.

“Get off me! Let go!” I tried to struggle from his grasp. Flailing my arms. Kicking. I felt smothered. I couldn’t breathe. But once his arms wrapped around me from behind, strong and clinging, I melted into his embrace. All the fight in me was swept away in the breeze.

He kept me grounded, holding me together as I was falling apart. Nothing else mattered while I was sheltered by him. Guarded by him. The impeccable strength and stability he emanated was a natural deterrent of everyone and everything that wished me harm.

Nothing could hurt me when he was holding me like this. In his protective arms, the world didn’t seem like such a crappy place.

Franklin held me until my tears dried and my breathing calmed. Once again, he came to my rescue, soothing me before my tantrum grew out of control. I was growing increasingly attached to the feeling of safety and serenity he provided. It was scary.

“You good?” he asked.

I nodded. “Better now.”

He pulled away, then handed me my book bag and purse. “You dropped this.”

“Oh my god, I didn’t realize…” I sighed. “Thanks for the save, Frank. As always.”

He wiped a bead of sweat from his forehead. “Don’t run off like that again, a’ight? Had trouble keeping up with you. When you’d get so damn fast?”

“I had to get away. Everyone was staring.”

“It’s just you and me now. And Chop.”

Chop sat down at my feet, staring up at me with those cute little doe eyes. I gave him a couple scratches behind his floppy ears and squeezed Franklin’s hand in silent gratitude. “I don’t know what I’d do without you guys.”

Chop responded with a series of a barks. Knowing Franklin was well-versed in dog language, I turned to him for answers. “What did Chop say?”

“He wants to know if biting a hole in Claire’s flat ass would make you feel better,” Franklin said. “Little homie would be more than happy to do it.”

I chuckled. “As much as I would _love_ to see that, we can’t stoop to her level. We’re better than that. God, I hate being a freshman. The seniors are so effing mean. Feels like high school all over again.”

“Out of the frying pan into the fire.” He smiled sympathetically.

“Can you believe what she said about me? I mean seriously, who talks to people like that?”

Franklin took a step forward and brushed a hand over my elbow, urging me to walk with him. Chop followed behind.

“They’re just words,” Franklin said. “Empty threats. Bullshit with no substance. You can’t let the shit people say affect you like that.”

I mumbled, “Words hurt, okay? I’m sorry I’m not as thick-skinned and tough as you are. Claire is right, Chad is out of my league. Didn’t you see her? She’s beautiful. And she was all over you. I bet you were loving it.”

“I didn’t come here for her. I came here for you.” He hesitantly touched a fingertip to the corner of my eye, wiping away the tears. The fiercely intimate gesture caught me off guard. I stared wordlessly at him, momentarily speechless. “If there’s anything I ever learned ‘bout women, it’s that they lash out at each other when they’re jealous. Which means…”

My brows rose. “Claire is jealous? _Of me?_ ”

He nodded. “You’re the one going on a date with the frat dude. She ain’t. You’re also the one with his dick pic.”

“The jungle wiener,” I snickered. “Do you think he’ll shave before Friday?”

“Don’t matter unless you plan on fucking him. Which you ain't going to, right?”

“On the first date? Heck no.” _I’m gonna give it to him good on the second though._

As if he could read my mind, Franklin’s expression stilled and grew serious. “You want this dude to respect and treat you like a woman, you gotta conduct yourself like one. For real, Trace, don’t throw yourself at him. Make him chase _you_. Make him put in work for _you_. You’ll fuck this up otherwise.”

I threw my hands up in surrender. “Okay, jeez. Relax. I’ll try not to be a slut.”

“I never said you were,” he frowned.

“You implied it, but it’s fine. I forgive you for being a passive aggressive tool because I know you have my best interest at heart.” I hooked my arm around his. “I’ve dated a lot of guys, had sex with most of them too, but that was the past. I’m in a new stage of my life. I’m working on becoming a better me, loving myself, treating others the way I want to be treated. No more getting high off Dad’s hard-earned money, no more being anal about calories and puking up meals, no more toxic relationships…”

He chuckled. “Living yo’ best life now, huh?”

“That’s right.”

“Well, since you ain’t starving yourself no more, you wanna grab somethin’ to eat?”

“Yes!” I beamed. “I’m in the mood for Chinese. What about you?”

“Chinese is cool with me.” He glanced at Chop. “What you think, little homie?”

Chop howled, tapping his paws on the ground excitedly.

Franklin smiled. “Sure, we’ll get you some fries, boy.”

***

We ordered our Chinese to go and went back to my place to stuff our faces. Once we were done eating, we practiced the Waltz until I finally nailed it without making an ass of myself. Mom got home from shopping nearly a quarter after seven and found us in the living room while we watched reruns of Fame or Shame. Chop chewed happily away at a bone.

“Hey guys,” she smiled, holding paper bags of groceries in her arms.

“Hi, Mom,” I waved at her.

“Amanda, hey. Lemme help you with that.” Franklin rose from the couch and grabbed the groceries from Mom. He set the bags down on the kitchen counter.

“Aw, thank you, honey,” Mom smiled. “You’re very sweet. It’s nice to have a man around the house willing to make himself useful. Michael is always so busy, and when he is home, he avoids his household duties like a plague.”

I joined them in the kitchen, gravitating to Franklin’s side. “Dad thinks chores are beneath him,” I said.

“And Jimmy?” Franklin asked.

“Lazy,” Mom and I said in unison.

While we were helping Mom put the groceries away, I came across a bag of barbeque potato chips. Knowing how much Franklin loved barbeque, I ripped the bag open and shoved a handful in my mouth. “ _Mmm_ ,” a pleased murmur slipped through my lips, teasing him. “This is _soooo_ good.”

“Ay, gimme some.” He opened his palm to me.

“Nope.” I turned my back to him. “Mom bought this for me, not you. Get your own—”

“I bought that for Jimmy, actually,” Mom muttered.

I snorted. “Good. I’m doing him a favor, he needs to lose weight anyway. He’s fat.”

“Tracey, stop. Your brother is very sensitive about his weight. You release bad vibes and negative energy throughout the house when you talk like that. It’s toxic for your soul, honey.”

Smirking, Franklin nudged me. “Don’t be toxic, Trace. Be nice. Learn to share.”

“Oh, whatever.” I rose a chip to his lips. “Open wide.”

He ate chip after chip from my fingertips, chewing, savoring the taste. The working of his perfectly sculpted jaw was captivating. I inhaled sharply, transfixed by the inherent strength in his face, the way his Adam’s apple bobbed when he swallowed. I wonder if his lips were as firm as they looked…

There was a crumb in his beard. Instinctively, I brushed it away with a flick of my hand. “Wow,” I breathed, amazed at the softness. The texture felt nice against my skin. I edged closer, the pleasant aroma of his aftershave graced my nostrils. It was an earthy scent, like sandalwood with subtle hints of spice. Sheesh. It should be illegal to smell _that_ good.

Mom cleared her throat. I froze with my hands still buried in Franklin’s neatly trimmed beard, the heat of her stare burning into me. _Awkward._

I backed away hastily and managed a laugh. “So…Mom, how was your day?”

“It was good. No complaints.” She shot my best friend a glance. “Franklin, honey, can you take out the garbage for me? I’d really appreciate it.”

“Yeah. Sure thing.” He swept up the garbage from the can and strode for the door.

Once he was gone, Mom stepped in front of me and whispered harshly, “What’s going on between you and him?”

I stiffened. “What do you mean?”

“Don’t insult my intelligence, Tracey. I literally just watched you hand-feed him. You were caressing his face, for god’s sake.”

“We’re just friends, Mom. You’re totally overreacting. And for the record, I’m an adult now. I can do what I want.” Annoyed with her prying, I retreated for the couch.

“This conversation isn’t over, young lady!” she called after me.

“Yes, it is! You can’t control my life anymore!”

I found Jimmy stretched across the sofa with his eyes glued on the television screen, channel surfing.

“Hey, I was watching TV first,” I snatched the remote from his hand.

“Whoa! Not cool, man!” He glared at me. “That was a total bitch move.” Franklin returned, strolling into the living room. Jimmy sprang to his feet, his eyes brightened at the sight of my friend. “Hey, F-Dog!”

Franklin greeted him with a tip of his chin. “What’s crackin’, homie?”

“You wanna play some video games?” Jimmy asked. “I just got the newest Righteous Slaughter. It’s dope as fuck.”

“I’ma take you up on that some other time, a’ight? There’s some shit I gotta get done with your sister.” He beckoned me over with a wave of his hand and uttered quietly, “You picked out a dress yet?”

I shook my head, “I was hoping we could find the right one together—”

“This is such bullshit!” Jimmy exploded, his pudgy face flushed red. I coulda swore there was smoke pouring out of his ears. “What makes _her_ so much better than I am? You’re choosing favorites, F-Dog? Seriously? What happened to bros before ho’s? Dicks over chicks—”

“Go away, you little turd.” I dismissed him with a wave of my hand. “Frank doesn’t have time for your stupid games. He’s busy.”

“Jesus fucking Christ, Tracey!” Jimmy threw his hands in the air dramatically. “Would you let the man breathe? You’re smothering him. He’s his own person, he doesn’t live to obey your every fucking command. As a matter of fact, he wouldn’t even be here if Dad wasn’t paying him!”

I stared at Jimmy’s back as he stormed off, my heart sinking low in my chest. _What the hell did he just say?_

Franklin reached out to me and I recoiled from his touch like a cattle prod.

“Tell me it’s not true,” I said.

“It ain’t,” he said through gritted teeth. “Not entirely.”

“‘ _Not entirely’_? What the fucking shit is that supposed to mean?”

He grew silent. My body twitched as I glared up at his stupid face. I should’ve known better. He wasn’t my friend. Our entire relationship was based on lies. Of course, Dad had a hand in this, he always does. He was always meddling in my effing life. _I’m sick of it!_

“Fuck you.” I flipped Franklin the bird and raced up the steps toward my room, righteous in my anger. I thought I meant something to him. _I’m so stupid._ All those things he did for me was for the sake of money. His dumb pep talks and kind words weren’t genuine. He was a fucking fake.

Unfortunately for me, the handsome lying ogre was hot on my trail. He caught me by the arm just before I made it to my room.

“Don’t run,” he hissed in my ear.

“I wouldn’t if you weren’t such an asshat.” My voice broke, tears welling in my eyes. “I’ve been nothing but honest with you. Why would you lie to me?”

“Yo’ pops ain’t paying me shit, alright?” Nostrils flaring, he released me and sighed heavily. “Mike has a lot going on, mid-life crisis, travelling all over the country for his movies, dealing with Trevor, doin’ a bunch of other shit he won’t even talk to me ‘bout…”

“So, he hired you to watch over me in his absence?”

“He _asked_ me to keep an eye on you. To protect you and your brother. I coulda said no, but I didn’t. I was going to come clean, but I didn’t want you to feel like this shit we got going on—our relationship—was financially motivated. I ain’t hired help, girl. I’m here with you ‘cause I wanna be.”

I swallowed deep, my gaze averted to the floor. “That wasn’t the case at first, was it?”

“At first, looking after you was all ‘bout doing your pops a favor. I owed him. Simple as that.”

“And now?”

He didn’t respond. I hazard a glance at him. One look at his remarkable brown eyes and my heart turned over in my chest. Butterflies in my stomach. How could any girl hold resentment against such a gorgeous face like his? He was breathtaking.

Franklin was a hard man in a lot of ways. Difficult to read, and near impossible to get close to. His silence was agonizing.

“Say something,” I urged. “Anything.”

He moved, leaning in so close, his breath ghosted my ear. I trembled, nearly swooning from the intoxicating scent of his cologne. Pinned to the wall and completely at his mercy, I could barely breathe as he cupped my cheek in his hand, caressing my skin with a heartrending tenderness. “I care ‘bout you, Trace,” he confessed softly, the sweetness of his words made my stomach flutter. “You know I do.”

My fingers aching with the need to touch him, I clung to his shirt, burying my flushed face in the crook of his neck. “Promise me you’ll be truthful from now on,” I sniffed. “No more lies.”

With one arm at my waist, his pinky curled around mine. “Promise.” His cheek nuzzling my own, the ticklish sensation of his beard forced a giggle out of me. “Shit, I hate it when you cry.”

I sagged into his warm embrace. His heartbeat raced against my chest as he threaded his shaky fingers through my hair. He was impassioned. Just as moved as I was by the intimate moment we shared. Relief washed over me. He _did_ care about me. Maybe this was real…

We held each other for a long while before our hug broke, but our fingers remained intertwined. “I have like, a dozen dresses to choose from in my closet,” I smiled weakly. “Can you help me pick one?”

His lips twitched with amusement. “Yeah. C’mon.” 


	2. Chapter 2

I woke to the sound of Franklin’s heart beating steadily beneath my ear. A shaft of blinding light pierced the window, shining over his dormant face. He looked so peaceful while sleeping, unguarded and unperturbed by the world around him. Hopefully he was having a good dream.

I yawned, rubbing my eyes. I was still wearing the black lace gown Franklin and I choose for my hot date tomorrow. I must’ve nodded off while I was trying on clothes, and by some strange turn of events, Franklin’s hard chest ended up replacing my pillow. Not that I was complaining…

Snuggling closer to my best friend, my gaze drifted over the digital clock face on the nightstand. 9:30 A.M. _Holy crap!_ _I’m late for class!_

I launched up and grabbed my phone. It was dead, no wonder the freaking alarm didn’t go off. “ _Franklin!_ ” I squealed, darting into my walk-in closet for a change of clothes. “Wake up! I’m late for class!”

He woke with a groan. “Late? Shit, how late?”

“Forty-five minutes late. My phone’s dead, I haven’t had any coffee. I _need_ coffee. I can’t live like this— _ugh!_ ” On my way out of the closet, I slid on a pile of shoes and tumbled to the floor like a clumsy idiot.

Franklin helped me up by the arm. “You okay?”

“No, I’m not ‘okay’,” I yanked at my hair in a fit of frustration. “My professor is super anal about lateness, Frank.”

He offered me his hand and I lunged for it. And of course, he didn’t flinch as I clenched down on his broad palm the hardest I could like a stress ball. Franklin knew me so well. One look and he could see the worry and anxiety building up inside me, threatening to burst. And he was selfless enough to let me use him as an outlet.

“Go shower and get dressed,” he said. “I’ll handle the coffee, a’ight?”

“Okay. Thanks.” I gave him a hug before leaving for the bathroom.

I took a quick shower, plaited my hair in two braids, threw on a gray sweater and comfy black leggings, and I was all ready to go. Making it to class seemed like a possibility until I reached my car. My heart thundered in my chest as I yanked at the door repeatedly. It wouldn’t fucking budge and my keys weren’t in my purse. _Shit._ I must’ve left them in my room!

With a heavy sigh, I made a beeline for the house, rushing up the short porch steps. Breezing through the front door in a hurry, I bumped into Franklin, spilling the hot coffee he prepared for me all over his shirt.

He jerked back, wincing from the burn.

“Oh—oh my God!” I shoved a shaky hand into my purse for napkins and wiped at his drenched attire. “I’m so, _so_ sorry! Are you okay?”

He clenched his jaw tight and turned for the kitchen. I followed him, grabbing a roll of paper towels from the rack and dabbing at his damp chest. He washed his arms and hands in the sink.

“I’m sorry,” I apologized profusely. Franklin was always good to me, and I felt like absolute crap for hurting him. “I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I’m sorry—”

“Ay, stop apologizing.” His arm circled my waist, pulling me into a comforting side hug. “I’m good. It was an accident, shit happens.”

I examined him for any visible burns. His skin was flushed but he seemed to be fine otherwise. “Are you sure you’re okay?”

“Positive.”

Relieved that he was unscathed, I pulled away, my shoulders drooped. “How late am I now?”

He glanced at his phone and winced. “An hour.”

“Well, there’s no way I’m walking into class an hour late so…” I took his hand. “Screw school. Wanna go hang out instead?”

“Fo’ sho’. I’m always down to chill.” He smiled. “I’ma need to make a stop at the crib for a change of clothes first though. C’mon, I’ll drive.”

***

The amazing view from the grand terrace of Franklin’s home always took my breath away. It was like looking down at the world, I could see the entire city from here. The mountains. The wildlife. The cityscape was a jumble of shapes, lights glittering everywhere like stars falling onto the earth. Vehicles sped along the chaotic lines of streets coughing up smog, and dots of small people moved in masses—all the madness of the metropolis intertwined together in a teeming mess of opportunity. For such a crazy place, Los Santos sure was beautiful.

I reached for my phone to take a picture and kicked myself for forgetting to charge it. “Frank!” I called out, leaving the balcony and heading into the living room. “I need a charger!” I admired some of the abstract art adorning the walls as I searched the house from top to bottom for my best friend.

He wasn’t upstairs so there was only one place left to look. I knocked on his bedroom door. “Bestie, are you in there?” There was silence. I turned the knob and let myself in.

And there he was, shirtless, the sunlight streaming through the vast windowpanes illuminated his rippling abdomen and powerful chest. His deep brown skin glowed beautifully beneath the sun’s rays like diamonds. His biceps were _huge_ , bulging in perfect portion to his weight and height. I stumbled, breathless. My gaze drifted to the dark trail of hair that began just below his navel, past that sexy V-line of a pelvis, into his pants…

_Holy effing crap, he’s hot._

He stirred at the sight of me, the slight ripple of muscle warning of his enormous strength. I was practically salivating, head over heels in a trance. I could look at him all day, all night long…

“Trace?” Seemingly amused, an inviting smile quirked his full, sensual lips.

Hit with all that sweltering sexuality and charming magnetism so abruptly— _it was too much!_ Pressing a palm to my hammering heart, I fled into the hall, forcing the erotic image of him to the back of my mind. He was my best friend. I shouldn’t be fantasizing about running my fingers through his thick hair, or kissing that perfect mouth, or sliding my hands all over his muscled body…

Whew, it was hot in here. I grabbed a cold drink of water from the fridge to cool myself down. I looked at my flushed face in the mirror and cringed. He had an effect on me like no other man I’ve ever met.

Not even Chad Dillington could compare, the cute guy I’ve spent hours and hours prepping to go on a date with.

Franklin found me in the kitchen, his stride graceful and strong as always. His designer V-neck shirt hugged his muscles so nicely, I wanted to undress him with my teeth.

He handed me a phone charger. “You were looking for this, right?”

“Y-yeah,” I stammered, surprised by his casualness. He didn’t seem unnerved in the slightest by my invasion of privacy a moment ago. “I’m sorry about bursting into your room earlier. I um, I-I didn’t know where you were and—”

“It’s all good. I know you missed me, girl.” He pinched my cheek playfully. “A couple minutes apart was just too much for you, huh?”

“You wish.” Giggling, I slapped his hand. “I didn’t miss you, loser. My phone’s dead, I needed a charger. That’s all.”

“Yeah?” He smirked. “You’re blushing by the way, Trace.”

My brows shot up. _Oh no._ I pivoted, my back facing him as I plugged my phone into the wall. Quickly, I changed the subject. “Wanna come with me to the spa? We can both use some TLC, don’t you think?”

“The spa?” He sagged onto the couch and turned on the TV. “How ‘bout I drop you off there and pick you up when you done?”

“ _Nooo_ , let’s get a facial together!” I flopped beside him. “ _Pleeeeease?_ ”

“What? Don’t you got class?”

“I’m taking the day off. C’mon, let’s pamper ourselves! We deserve it!”

He sighed. “You finna nag me until I say yes, ain’t you?”

“Maybe? We can get massages too. It’ll be good for your back and your neck…” I rubbed at his shoulder blades. “See? Doesn’t that feel good?”

“Mhm.” Franklin tipped his head back and closed his eyes, relaxing into my palms. “Hey, get right here too.” He pointed at his collarbone.

Hesitantly, I caressed the strong tendons in his neck. The corded muscles loosened beneath my fingers. I touched him as if he were breakable, my stomach churned with worry I might apply too much pressure and cause him discomfort. My hand skimmed over his Adam’s apple and he shivered, swallowing deep, the fine hairs on his neck lifting in response to the sensation.

It was a deeply intimate moment, our connection startingly intense. His hand clasped my wrist and slid upward along my arm in a firmly possessive glide. Awareness of him tingled across my skin. He radiated a magnetism that left me restless. Trembling.

Franklin was such a guarded man. He kept others at a distance. I wondered—did he let other people get close to him like this? Was his intimate smiles and gentle touch reserved for me alone?

“Enjoying yourself?” I tickled his earlobe with a flick of my finger. 

“This is nice,” he smiled. “What’s the point of spending bread on a massage if you can do it for me? For free?”

“I’m not a licensed professional, that’s the difference.” I stood up. “Now get off your lazy butt and let’s go treat ourselves.”

“A’ight, fuck it. You win. I’ll go with you, but I ain’t getting no facial. Just the massage.”

“Even a tough, manly man like you needs to take care of his skin.” I took his hand and pulled him up. “You’re getting a facial, Frank. It’s nonnegotiable. Not that you need one because your complexion is like, _flawless_ , but it’s all about the experience. Let’s get you a manicure too.”

“Manicure? You think I need one?” He glanced at his nails. “They ain’t that bad, right?”

I scrutinized his blunt fingers. “They’re nice, but they could always be better. You’ll thank me later, c’mon.”

***

After many luxurious hours of being pampered at the spa, Franklin took me home and lounged on my bed while I deep conditioned my hair. The masquerade ball was tomorrow, and I had to look my absolute best.

My stomach hardened whenever I thought about seeing Chad again. Most girls would jump at the opportunity to go on a date with the richest, most attractive boy in their university, but for some reason, I felt…dread. Not excitement. No enthusiasm. And I couldn’t put my finger on why exactly…

With my wet hair wrapped in a towel, I paced the room in my pink polka dot pajamas. I must be going crazy. Chad effing Dillington was a big deal. The most important boy on campus. Wealthy. Super smart. Charismatic. One of the top ten quarterbacks in the entire country. He would make my parents proud. Mom and Dad would love him. Everyone loved Chad Dillington. If I stick this out and follow the plan, I’ll learn to love him too. Hopefully.

That’s what I kept telling myself. But there was a band around my ribs, pulling tighter and tighter. Squeezing the breath from my lungs. It left me winded. Panting. Pacing wasn’t helping. The breathing exercises Doctor Friedlander taught me wasn’t working. I chewed at my fingernails to distract me from the ache. What am I going to do? Maybe I shouldn’t go. Maybe—

“You good?” Franklin asked.

I froze. He’s been staring at me as I paced the room like a nutjob, and I didn’t even notice until now. “I-I think I’m coming down with something,” I said.

He beckoned me over. “C’mere.” I complied, crawling on the bed beside him. He raised his palm to my forehead. “You don’t have a fever.” His eyes dropped to my hands. “Oh shit, what’d you do?”

I glanced down, my eyes widening at the sight of blood flowing from my freshly manicured nails. _Oh, no!_

A taste of bile rose in my throat. How could I do this myself? I just got my nails done and now they were ruined. “O-oh my God, oh my God!” My insides felt like jelly, big knots forming in my stomach. The room was spinning like crazy. A sharp throbbing pierced my head. I curled up in a ball, hugging my knees to my chest in a desperate attempt to keep myself from falling apart.

I was faintly aware of Franklin moving. Suddenly, I was lifted into the cradle of his arms. He whisked me to the bathroom and propped me on the edge of the sink, my trembling body anchored against his.

He turned the warm water on and let it run over my blood-caked fingernails. “Tell me what’s wrong,” he pressed, his lips at my ear. “Let me in, girl. Talk to me.”

“Everything hurts,” I muttered breathlessly. “My stomach, m-my head…I-I feel faint.”

Franklin opened the mirror cabinet and passed me my pills. He left and returned a second later with bottled water. Eagerly, I took the medication Doctor Friedlander prescribed me for my panic attacks and then I lunged for Franklin, my legs hooked around his waist, I clung to him like he was my lifeline. Because he _literally_ was. Without him keeping me afloat, I’d sink…

He switched out the damp towel on my head for a dry one. “You finna do fine tomorrow,” he reassured, his thumbs worked my temples in gentle circles, loosening the tension in my head. “You got this. It’s just a date. Repeat after me—it’s just a date.”

His soothing touch calming my nerves, my breathing began to steady. “It’s just a date,” I repeated.

“It won’t make or break me. I’m strong. Beautiful. The baddest bitch in Los Santos, and fuck everybody who says otherwise. Any dude would be lucky to have me, including Chad motherfucking Dillington.”

I recited his confident words aloud with a chuckle. The positive affirmations were a good distraction from my negative thoughts. Maybe if I repeated them enough, I could learn to believe it.

Sighing deeply, my gaze drifted to the mirror’s reflection of my flushed face, red and overcome with volatile emotion. Next to Franklin’s breathtaking beauty, his features calm and composed, we looked all wrong for each other. Polar opposites. Somehow, despite our glaring differences, we had a connection. Like two sides of the same soul. My other half.

I’ve never felt so close to another person before. He was resilient, grounded, reliable, and I was undoubtedly attracted to the aura of stability he radiated. The scary part was, I didn’t know if he felt the same for me. Most of the time, I felt like a burden to him.

“Franklin?”

He took a comb and ran it down my wet strands, untangling my hair. “Yeah?”

“Do you think…” I hesitated, my voice barely a whisper. “Do you think you’ll ever get tired of me?”

He grew still, his amber eyes sought and found mine. My heart turned over in response. Heat stealing into my face, I looked away. I craved his intimacy but was a nervous wreck whenever I was lucky enough to receive it. He was far too handsome of a man and the golden radiance of his gaze caused me to swoon if I stared into them long enough.

Franklin cupped the side of my face in his hand. I nuzzled my cheek into his palm, cherishing the warmth. “I’m worried ‘bout you, Trace,” he said. “I thought we had a handle on your panic attacks. You ain’t had none in a long time, for months, and now, it’s like a daily thing. And it’s getting worse, girl. I don’t know if I can help you. Maybe we should tell yo’ parents.”

“No, they’ll overreact,” I sighed. “I don’t want them freaking out over me, Dad especially. He always does something dramatic to try and fix it, and it only makes things worse.”

“What you wanna do then? How can we make you better?”

“ _You_ make me better. Now stop being a worrywart.” I chastised him with a tap of my finger on his broad nose. “This is totally off topic, but I’ve been thinking—”

He interrupted, “Thinking ain’t really your strong suit, Tracey.”

I smacked his shoulder. “Stop it. I’m trying to talk to you about something. It’s important.”

“Uh-huh.” Smirking, Franklin picked me up and moved us back to my room. He set me down on the bed and sagged into the fuzzy chair across from me. With a yawn, he tilted his head back and rested his eyes. “A’ight, I’m listening. What’s so important?”

“I have a question, and I’ll only ask if you promise to answer honestly.”

“And if I don’t?”

“Then I won’t ask.”

He gave a resigned shrug.

“Really?” I crossed my arms over my chest. “You don’t care? The curiosity isn’t killing you?”

“Nah. Not really.”

“Dick.” I threw a tube of lipstick at him.

He caught it. “If you got somethin’ to say to me, girl, just say it. No point holding back now, unless you’re scared?”

“I’m not scared of anything.”

“Oh, yeah?” Leaning toward me with his hands folded politely in his lap, he offered me his full attention. “Then what you waitin’ for?”

“Fine. Here goes.” I took a deep breath before hitting him with the touchy question, “Why do you keep to yourself?”

His gaze narrowed.

I went on, “You’re like, _hot_ , almost as hot as I am—”

“I’m glad you like what you see.” A ghost of a smile touched his full lips and made him insanely more gorgeous. _God…_

“But you’re not dating anyone,” I forced myself to continue. “You rarely use social media. You barely have any friends other than me, my fossil of a father, and Uncle T. Jimmy too, I guess. So, what’s your deal? Why are you such a loner?”

Brows furrowed, he leaned back into his seat, his stare burned through me. “Shit, is that what you think of me? That I’m a loner?”

I shifted restlessly beneath his searing gaze, my fingers twisting in my lap. “Am I w-wrong?”

Smile fading, Franklin’s eyes averted to the floor, his crossed arms betrayed an inherent unease. He seemed to be brooding, silent, his expression grim. Biting my lip, I tapped my feet against the floor, thinking of the right thing to say. I didn’t mean to upset him…

“I’m sorry,” I blurted. “Forget I said anything. We don’t have to talk about it—”

“You ain’t wrong.” He spoke with a quiet intensity. Our eyes locked. “The less cats I have to deal with, the less problems I have. Learned that when I was a kid, not long after I lost my moms. I had to raise myself, and that shit ain’t easy in the hood, you feel me? But what don’t kill you makes you stronger. I’m content with being alone, it’s been that way most of my life.”

I swallowed past the lump in my throat. “Do you miss her? Your mother?”

“Everyday.” A muscle quivered in his jaw. “I mean, she overdosed when I was real young, but I wish she could’ve stuck around a lil’ longer, until I was old enough to remember her, you know?”

 _Oh, Franklin_. My heart broke for him. I tried to imagine him as the young, adorable dark-haired boy he was all those years ago, his golden-brown eyes filled with terrible confusion and sorrow at the news of his mother’s untimely death. It must have been devastating—to have no father present to care for him either. The loneliness must have gnawed at him on the daily.

Franklin had a difficult childhood, that much was obvious. How did he carry the burden of such tremendous loss on his shoulders? How deep did he bury the trauma inside so that no one would see it? Underneath that rough, hard as dried beef exterior, he was hurting. He was a powerful man, mentally and emotionally, but no human was made of stone.

Mulling over his troubled past, my lips trembled, and I found myself sniffing into my sleeves. “Trace?” He crossed the room in one stride. Hovering over me, he fingered a loose tendril of my hair. “You don’t get to cry for me. I hate that shit. It makes me feel…” His voice trailed off.

I gazed at him. “It makes you feel like what, Frank?”

“It…it _hurts._ ” His chest lifted and fell on a deep exhale. “Let’s not dwell on the past, a’ight? It’s like reopening old wounds. Neither of us are drunk or faded enough for that shit right now.”

“You’re not alone.” I stroked his tense forearm. “You have me. And you couldn’t get rid of me even if you tried.”

“Uh-huh.” There was a twinge of cynicism in his tone. “I bet.”

“I’m serious.” I hugged his waist, my cheek nuzzled against his hard stomach. “Why can’t you lean on me the same way I lean on you? Codependency? You carry my baggage, I carry yours. I wanna be a better friend to you. Not just a burden.”

His gaze softened. “You are good to me, girl. In your own way. You’ve been going through a lot lately and—I dunno.” He paused, his gaze distant. “I feel like I’m in the right place. Here with you. For now.”

My heart stuttered. “Just for now?”

“For as long as you need me.” Franklin cupped the back of my head in his hand, wiping away the tears brimming on my eyelashes with a gentle sweep of his thumb. “I’ve done a lot of bad shit in my life. With you, I’m better. The world don’t seem like such a fucked up place.”

“Don’t ever leave, Frank. Okay?”

“Don’t let me go.”

My grasp on him tightened. I had no intention of _ever_ letting go.

We held each other; my face still snuggled against the warmth of his stomach. He stood before me, unmoving, and didn’t utter a word for a long while. Just gave me the comfort of having him close. Or maybe he was taking comfort in me.

There was a knock at the door. “F-Dog?” Jimmy’s annoying voice slipped through the doorframe. “You in there, home slice? I’m hungry, can you buy me some pizza? _Please?_ And can we smoke some fools on Righteous Slaughter after?”

Franklin glanced at the door, then back at me. With one brow quirked, he silently awaited my consent.

As much as I wanted my best friend all to myself, I decided to share. Just this once. “You should spend some time with Jimmy,” I said.

He tilted my chin up to look into my eyes. “You sure?”

“Yep. My brother is an idiot but he’s right—I’ve been smothering you.”

“I like being smothered by you. It ain’t so bad.” He sank to my level and embraced me. “I’ma dip after I’m done chilling with Jimmy. I’m tired, and you got a big day ahead of you, girl. I’ll see you tomorrow after class, a’ight? Before your date?”

 _Crap. Did he have to remind of the date?_ “Okay. Promise me you’ll say goodbye before you leave tonight?”

“No doubt. And I’ll text you when get back to the crib.” He rose and backed away, holding my hand until the distance pulled our fingers apart. I immediately missed his warmth.

“Can you save me a slice of pizza too?” I asked.

He stopped at the door. “Cheese or pepperoni?”

“Surprise me.”

“A’ight, pineapple and anchovies it is.”

I cringed. “No! You better _not_.”

“I’m kidding.” A smile flashed briefly, white teeth dazzling against his beautiful brown skin. “Or am I?” With a teasing grin, he left.

An unwelcome chill swept over me. I hugged myself, wishing it was his strong arms wrapped around me instead.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! Leave kudos if you enjoyed! If you'd like me to continue with updates, let me know! Comments and feedback feed my soul!  
> Follow Anboringday on tumblr for fanart, requests, or if you just wanna chat :)


	3. Chapter 3

It was pouring rain when I got out of class the following day. Franklin arrived right on time, and surprisingly with an umbrella too. He sheltered me from the shower as he escorted me to his car, then picked up Jimmy from work, and took us both back home. I couldn’t be more thankful. Doing household chores like fixing broken pipes to supporting my brother and I, mentally and emotionally—he had taken up Dad’s responsibilities in its entirety.

Dad was an overprotective nutjob. Super paranoid. Which begged the question: what was the nature of Dad and Franklin’s relationship? Why did he trust Franklin enough to look after us? And more importantly, why the heck did Franklin agree to such a heavy load of responsibility without payment? He had a life, his own problems and obligations to worry about. Why waste the energy caring for my family when he could just as easily invest that time somewhere else?

Regardless of his reasons, I always enjoyed his company. And so did Jimmy. He needed a friend.

We were all wet from the rain when we got home. As I kicked off my shoes at the door, Franklin shrugged out of his damp black sweater, revealing a white tank top underneath. The prime view of his massive, perfectly sculpted biceps took my breath away, his muscles flexed and relaxed with the flow of his movement. Did his arms feel as hard and powerful as they looked? My fingers aching with the need to touch, I had to force my hands into my pockets to resist the urge of reaching out to him.

My date with Chad was in a few hours, and here I was, obsessing over my best friend’s savage beauty once again. It felt… _wrong._ Taut as a wire, I retreated into the kitchen for a glass of wine. I needed a drink. Maybe a bit of alcohol could remedy the tight knot in my stomach. It pulled and tightened whenever I thought about the masquerade ball tonight. About Chad. My insides jangled with dread, I tossed my drink back with trembling fingers.

There was a note on the counter.

**_If you’re reading this, I’m not coming home tonight. I’m spending a romantic getaway weekend with your father. There’s leftover pizza in the fridge. If you need anything, don’t call me. Franklin is there for a reason._ **

**_—Mom_ **

_Wow._ Mom and Dad could be such effing deadbeats sometimes.

An angry **_boom_** of thunder cracked the air. I shuddered, dropping my drink. The glass shattered, the contents spilled on the floor.

Franklin appeared at my side as if by magic. “You good? Did you cut yourself?”

“I’m fine,” I scrubbed a shaky hand over my face. “Mom is gonna kill me for breaking her wine glass, she spent a fortune on it.”

“Nah. It was a mistake, she’ll understand.” With a broom and dustpan in hand, he began sweeping up the broken shards of glass. “Trace?”

“Yes?”

“Can you give me a hand?”

I caught his hand and linked my fingers with his. He froze, his eyes lowered to where our fingers connected. “That ain’t what I meant,” he said with a hint of amusement.

“Oh. Um…” My face heated. _Awkward._ “What did you mean then?”

“Some help cleanin’ up this mess you made would be nice.” With a chuckle, he gravitated closer, his soft laughter was a tantalizing rumble in my ear. “But if you just wanna hold hands instead, I’m cool with that too.”

His teasing broke the tension of the moment. I sighed and hugged him. He set the broom aside to return the hug, the warmth of his body quelled the war of emotions raging inside me.

“I’m sorry for acting like such a weirdo,” I murmured. “I don’t know what’s wrong with me.”

“Ay, stop that. There ain’t nothing wrong with you.” Holding me a fraction tighter, he rested his chin atop my head. “How ‘bout you go relax while I clean this up?”

I glanced at the glass pieces and wine all over the floor. “Are you sure? I’m the one who made this mess in the first place, Frank. You shouldn’t have to do this alone.”

“It’s a’ight. Don’t worry.” He flashed me a reassuring smile. “Go. I got this.”

“Okay.” I gave his hand a gentle squeeze before leaving for the living room. Curling into the corner of the couch, I rested my eyes and focused on breathing. In and out, calmly, just like Doctor Friedlander taught me. If I didn’t get my emotions together soon, I’m totally going to bomb my date with Chad tonight.

Assuming I could muster the strength to even show up. Was it too late to cancel?

Alone with only the soft pitter-patter of rain on the windowsill to keep me company, I eventually drifted off to sleep.

“Trace?” I woke to the sound of Franklin’s voice. He sank onto the couch beside me with a bowl of hot chicken noodle soup in his grasp. “You seemed a little on edge earlier, girl. Thought this would help.”

“ _Oh_ , Frank, you shouldn’t have.” I didn’t realize how hungry I was until I took a sip of the warm broth. _Yummy._ My heart swelled. What would I do without my best friend?

“Is it good?” he asked.

“It’s perfect.” I leaned in and kissed his cheek. “Thank you.”

He grinned sheepishly, his masculine features softening with a boyish charm. The full, throaty sound of his laughter was like a sweet melody in my ears. It was times like this that I adored him the most, when his walls were down and his true self shined through. Deep down, he was kind, compassionate, and tenderhearted despite the suffering this terrible world had put him through.

The world had failed him. In that moment, as I reveled in the beauty of his laughter, I vowed not to be yet another source of pain. I strived to be his healing balm instead, someone he could turn to in times of uncertainty and stress. It seemed like a far-fetched dream considering how guarded he could be at times, but every glimpse of vulnerability he revealed brought us closer. Maybe one day I’d earn his trust, and the impalpable barrier between us would crumble entirely.

I finished my soup and reached for the remote. “My date is in three hours. Wanna watch a short chick flick?”

“Shouldn’t you be getting ready?” He fingered a curl of my messy strands. “Your hair ain’t done yet, or your makeup.”

“I still have time.” I had a massive collection of unwatched romance movies stored on the DVR. I chose the first one and snuggled close to my best friend, my ankle hooked over his knee. “I need this. Being with you is calming.”

Franklin didn’t argue. Instead, his arm curled around me, pulling me even closer. He laid his rugged cheek against the crown of my head, and murmured, “Don’t forget to take your pills with you tonight. Just in case. If something happens, I ain’t finna be there to settle you down.”

“I won’t forget.” Delighted in the sensation of his warm, hard body against mine, I grew lax in his embrace. My forehead tucked in the crook of his neck, I breathed him in, an enticing mixture of cologne and his own distinctly male scent. The movie was simply background noise as we held each other, basking in one another’s closeness. “Frank, do you think I’ll ever be normal?”

His fingertips traced the curve of my cheek and the line of my jaw. Despite his blatant strength, his touch was unbelievably delicate. “Normal? Why would you wanna be that? Sounds boring.”

I nudged him. “You know what I mean.”

“I ain’t no doctor but you’ve been living with them panic attacks most yo’ life. It didn’t break you yet. And it never will.”

Absentmindedly, I toyed with his calloused fingers and palm, the slightly rough texture felt so nice against my skin. “I didn’t break because you’re holding me together.”

“No,” he bit out. “You grew up in Los Santos—we both did, and this crazy, motherfucking city…it changes people. Usually for the worse, but we survived the bullshit. We’re still here. That’s gotta count for something, you feel me?” His voice softened. “You ain’t as fragile as you think you are, Trace.”

“But you’re a lot stronger than I am,” I frowned. “I wish you didn’t have to go through all those bad things growing up. Gangbanging and hurting people to survive. The loneliness without your parents. I wish I could take it all away.”

“Ay, look at me.” He tipped up my chin, forcing me to gaze into his glittering hazel eyes. “All that bad shit is behind me. I ain’t dwelling on it, and neither should you. I’m good. I’m okay. I promise.” His pinky hooked around mine. “Are you okay?”

I nodded. In his arms, everything was perfect.

We watched the chick flick from start to finish. At the end, the girl banged the guy of her dreams, they got married, and lived happily ever after. However, there was one part in particular that left seeds of doubt sprouting in my head.

I turned to my best friend for advice, “How important is the goodnight kiss after the date?”

“Pretty important.” He straightened and went into the kitchen, returning a moment later with a canned soda. “Physical intimacy matters. If the chemistry feels off, there ain’t finna be another date.”

 _Oh my God_. “Frank, w-what if I’m a bad kisser?”

He snorted and popped open his soda. “Nah, girl. You good. You’ll be fine.”

“How do you know that for sure?”

Franklin responded with the tiniest resigned shrug as he downed his drink.

Annoyed by his indifference, I raised my voice to a whiny pitch. “This is Chad effing Dillington we’re talking about! He’s dated dozens of girls and has tons of experience! What if I’m not good enough for him? What if—”

Grinding his strong jaw, he clenched my shoulders tightly, disrupting my complaining. “Kiss me.”

My heart stopped at the sudden demand, arousal surging through my veins at his authoritative tone. It took my brain a few seconds to register his words. “Are…are you serious?”

His eyes darkened. “Imagine I’m the frat boy. We had a good date. I drive you home, we’re standing outside yo’ front door. I tell you goodnight and…”

He edged closer, his powerful frame surrounded me, closing me in and everything outside that bubble ceased to exist. His nose nuzzled mine, the warmth of his breath on my neck caused my thoughts to scramble. I couldn’t think, I could barely breathe with him so close, his body radiated an energy and hunger that spurred my own wild desire for him. My gaze snared with his and my pulse kicked, anticipation thickened the air in my lungs.

His full lips were a forbidden temptation but resisting him was impossible. I grew tired of fighting the desire. I wanted him. _Bad._

All the emotion and tension bundled up inside me was too much to contain. Hot, twitchy, and restless, every cell in my body straining toward his, I threw myself at him, devouring his lips with a frantic rush of eager kisses. A violent shudder moved through him, hard enough to shake me too. My stomach dropped. Unnerved by the fury of his reaction, I froze. “What’s wrong?”

“This ain’t no race, girl. _Slow. Down._ ” His hand glided through my hair and clasped the nape of my neck with gentle strength. He was in control now, our breath mingling as his perfect mouth lingered agonizingly close to mine. My skin tingled as his voice lowered intimately. “Relax. Follow my lead, baby.”

The term of endearment sounded so seductively sweet from his lips, I shivered. Tilting my head slightly, he sealed his mouth over mine. The kiss was tender enough to make my heart flutter, the expertly soft pressure his firm lips exerted was amazing. I sighed, melting into the passionate coaxing. His tongue slid over my parted lips, light and teasingly with just the right amount of aggressiveness to drive a girl wild.

I loved the way he kissed me. I loved the delicate power of his working mouth, and how deeply his beautifully full lips affected me. Savoring the unique taste of him, I touched his face, caressing the sharp lines of his bearded jaw as he massaged my mouth with intoxicating possessiveness.

With a growl, he broke the kiss. Panting, his forehead touched mine. My breath caught on a surge of yearning so intense, it felt like pain. Needing the connection, my hands clung tight to his shirt.

My heart pounding uncontrollably in my chest, I was shaken by the profound depth of feelings I had for Franklin. What we shared was more than friendship. Deeper than mere companionship. I was attached to him. Dependent. And whenever we were apart, I felt empty and hollow, like something or _someone_ was missing. In that moment, a frightening realization dawned on me—a truth I’ve been running from and refusing to accept for weeks.

I’m in love with my best friend. Screw Chad. Screw that stupid ball. Everything I ever wanted was right in front of me.

Franklin’s phone buzzed with a notification. “What’s that?” I asked. 

Blinking as if coming out of a trance, he glanced at his phone and gritted his teeth audibly. “Shit. I…uh…” He swallowed deep. “I got a date.”

My heart sank to my toes. I scooted to the other end of the couch, the moment effectively broken. All the heat that built between us dwindled into a bitter chill. “A date?” I asked sourly. “Do you…do you like her?”

“We just met.” He paused for a moment, chewing on his bottom lip. “Finna link up with her soon and see how things go, I guess. I meant to tell you sooner, but it slipped my mind. My bad.”

“It’s okay.” My voice was barely a whisper, but he didn’t seem to notice. Or maybe he didn’t care. With a quick glance at the clock, I scrambled to my feet. “My date with Chad is in an hour. I’m gonna go get ready. Bye.”

Filled with sick jealousy and refusing to give him the satisfaction of knowing it, I feigned a smile and left him there, racing upstairs to my room. My knees gave out and I cried into my pillows so no one would hear. The rejection stung deep, but maybe a night with the hottest boy in school was just what I needed to dull the ache.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! If you enjoyed, please leave kudos! Comments feed my soul and fuel my inspiration, please leave feedback and let me know what you think if you'd like me to continue this! I love you guys!!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the long wait! Here's an update guys, hope you like!

Chad arrived in his notoriously bright red luxury convertible. His blonde locks were perfectly ruffled and eyes such a vivid green that I had forgotten he was an _hour_ effing late. He wore a designer three-piece suit of pristine white, carefully tailored and so outrageously expensive I felt underdressed. Even his cufflinks were custom-made! In comparison to his upscale extravagance, my short lace dress looked like it came out the nearest bargain bin. _Damn it._ I should've chosen something flashy, with a way bigger price tag.

_Well, there goes my self-confidence…_

I wobbled over to him in my stiletto heels and mumbled an awkward greeting, "H-hi."

"Hey, Blondie." Chad flashed his signature movie star smile that made all the girls swoon, including me. "We're late. Let's get going." _Whop!_ He smacked my ass. Hard.

I jerked forward from the impact. "Whoa! Slow down there, Tiger."

"When Chad sees a nice ass, he's gotta clap—I mean, _slap_ it." With an innocent smile, he slid behind the wheel. _Jeez, what a gentleman._

I climbed into the passenger seat. My hands trembled in my lap. My stomach pitched and rolled. I was on a date with the cutest boy in school, its official! No talking myself out of it, nowhere to escape—the moving car made sure of that. Enclosed together in a mechanical box of gas and metal, Chad was mine and mine alone. I've been preparing for this moment for the longest, time to make it count.

"So…" I shrugged out of my shawl, suddenly feeling too hot to wear it. "How are you?"

"Good," he replied. "Chad is always good. Always winning."

Why was he referring to himself in third person? I cleared my throat awkwardly and continued, "Um, how is chemistry class treating you? Do any cool experiments lately? Is the professor still chugging out loads of homework?"

"Chad doesn't have time for homework when he's chasing his dreams. No breaks. The grind never stops." He stomped on the gas, darting past a red light. I disregarded the first traffic violation as a careless mistake. This was Los Santos after all, bad driving was a local standard. But then he raced through another light. And another. Soon enough, he was speeding down the street recklessly as if we had multiple lives. It was like being on the road with my maniac of a dad at the wheel, but _worse_ , because if this tiny convertible collided with something, one of us was going to be flung through the effing windshield.

_Oh, heck no. No date is worth dying for._

Fearing for my safety, I clung to my seatbelt. "Are you insane? _Slow down!_ "

He glanced at me as if I had grown two heads. "Slow down? There's no time to _slow down_ when the grind never stops. Chad's racing to the top! All day! Ain't no stopping him, he's NFL bound—"

"You're going to get us killed!"

He threw his head back and laughed arrogantly. "Chad kills himself everyday chasing his dreams. Death is just an illusion. No pain equals no game. You gonna ride this out like a winner, or melt under pressure like a little bitch?"

I recoiled from his harshness. "Excuse me?"

"Relax, Blondie. Take a chill pill, you're ruining the vibe." The car screeched into a stop before a crowded club. Somehow, we made it to our destination unscathed. But that didn't change the fact that Chad was being more of a douche bag than usual. I was seriously considering leaving him right then and there without a word, but the moment I got out of the car, his arm linked with mine, dragging me along.

The line to get into the Vinewood venue was long, extending down the street and around the corner. Soulful music drifted out of the extravagant entrance, as did well-dressed customers who exited with pleased smiles. A beautiful hostess in a skintight dress of gold granted Chad and I immediate and free entrance. She escorted us through a long, dark, and somewhat spooky passageway, and then down a wood staircase into the sparkling neon lights of the notorious speakeasy ball.

The high ceilings were adorned with priceless chandeliers, and the polished marble dancefloor was so wide, it seemed to go on for miles. Tall, statuesque-like cocktail fountains lined the walls alongside tables of food draped in cloth. The sight of it took my breath away. This place was the epitome of elegance.

The best part of it all? No one was a stranger. The space was packed with familiar faces from campus. Only a handful of people were actually wearing their masquerade masks, while the majority were either too drunk to keep it on or had forgotten to even purchase one in the first place. I'm guilty of the latter. The mask would've ruined my makeup anyway.

My date and I only had a few seconds to ourselves before every single head in the room snapped in our direction. Camera flashes burst around us like fireworks. People started chanting Chad's name over the music. Like a strike of a match, the entire football team emerged and snatched my date from my arm. As if his mere arrival was cause for celebration, he was picked up off his feet and lifted into the air, crowd-surfing above the loving hands of the masses.

A cold chill swept over me. With every second that passed, I felt more and more alone. Out of place. I shrunk into the nearest corner and downed a few glasses of champagne.

Quickly blinking away my tears, I took a moment to gather my composure. I shouldn't have come here. I should've listened to my gut. _I'm so stupid!_

"I'd take it easy on the drinks if I were you."

I turned to find Claire beside me, her luxuriant auburn locks impeccably curled as always. She wore a matching gown of red with pearls thickly sown into the sleeves.

Deeply immersed in my own pity party, I didn't respond. Hopefully she'd get the message and go away. Unfortunately, she didn't. "Let me guess, your date with Chad isn't going as planned? He isn't the Prince Charming you imagined him to be?"

My temper flared at her patronizing tone, which felt good after so long of feeling sorry for myself. I had every right to be angry. "Screw you, Claire. Why don't you go be a bitch elsewhere?"

"I'm not here to fight." Her voice softened, filled with an empathy I had no clue she was capable of. "I know how you're feeling right now. Small. Alone. Hurt. You're not the only girl who's been sidelined by Chad. He has a history of this kinda thing."

I stared at the heartless mean girl who tormented everyone day after day, shocked by her somber expression and watery doe eyes. Apparently, she wasn't the cold-blooded bitch I thought she was. Underneath that catty, savage exterior was just a normal girl. A normal girl who's been hurt by Chad too. In an instant, my enemy became my only source of comfort.

I shot a glance at Chad. No longer crowd-surfing, he was now in the center of the dancefloor, surrounded by a small gathering of beautiful, elegantly dressed girls desperate for his attention. I cursed inwardly. I couldn't remember a time in my life I felt more invisible to the world than now. Did he forget I was here?

Claire sighed and took a sip of champagne. "The road you're going down only leads to one thing…heartbreak. Make it easy on yourself and just leave, Freshman. Don't make the same mistake I made. Falling for a guy like him is a trap. It's been months since we separated and I'm still not over him."

I twisted to face her. "You love him?"

"Everyone does." She managed a smile as rigid and fragile as hand-blown glass. "Chad is the hot commodity every girl wants but can't get—rich, handsome, untouchable, and out of our league…"

Unable to find my voice, we lingered in silence. I grabbed my phone from my clutch purse and flipped through Franklin and I's old text messages. _I miss him so much._ The thought of him being on a date right now was heart shattering, and the assumption that it was probably going _way_ better than mine hurt even worse.

_Sucks to be me._

I saw Chad approaching us from my peripheral vision, and Claire immediately took off in the opposite direction like he was the walking plague. Her words of warning were at the forefront of my mind as Chad laid a hand on the small of my back. My skin crawled. One look at my flushed face and he knew I was pissed.

"You always this moody, Blondie?" he grumbled. "What did Claire say to you? Did she mention me?"

Swallowing past the lump in my throat, I sucked up the remaining bits of self-respect I had left and announced, "I'm leaving." I didn't owe him an explanation of why, and he had more than enough ladies to keep him company.

He caught me by the elbow. " _You_ leaving _me_? Chad Dillington? Future leading quarterback of the NFL? Have you seen his stats? He's a star in the making, Blondie."

"Stop talking in third person, effing moron." His douchey demeanor was as grating on my nerves as nails on a chalkboard. "And fuck your stats, dickweed. We're done."

"You got a lot of attitude for a nobody." His grip on me tightened to a painful degree. "You're difficult. Good. Chad likes a challenge—"

"Don't touch me, asshole!" I jerked away. It took all the strength I could muster to free myself from his punishing grasp. Eyes shifted to us. Chad took a step back, and I took the moment of reprieve to escape his clutches.

What the hell had gotten into Chad? Was he out of his mind? Why was he being such a douche bag? He had no right to put his hands on me like that. He could stick his money and his stupid sports achievements up his ass for all I care. His egotistical attitude made me feel small, insignificant, and physically sick to my stomach.

Shaking, I retreated into the shadowy hall outside the ballroom and called my best friend. Thank God he answered on the first ring. "Trace?"

"Hey." My voice didn't sound like mine, weak and clogged with misery. "I, um…I-I need you to come get me."

"You good? What happened?"

" _Please_ ," I avoided the question, too disorientated and emotionally wounded to muster an answer. "C-come pick me up, Frank. Hurry. Please."

"A'ight. Hold on." There was a feminine voice in the background, Franklin's date I assumed. Her voice was muffled, and I couldn't make out her words. "Ay, I gotta bounce," he told her. "Somethin' came up. Put the drinks on my tab." There was movement on his end. A few moments later I heard noisy traffic and car horns. "Tracey, I'll be there soon," he said.

Relief washed over me. I kept the phone pressed to my ear, being on the line with him soothed my nerves. "Don't hang up, okay?"

"Okay."

Red-faced and embarrassed, I kept my head down as I made the lonely walk of shame out of the club. I could only imagine what everyone else at the party was thinking. I'm sure all the chicks there were happy to have me out of the way so they could have their chance with Chad next. For a guy like him, I'd be easily replaced with someone prettier. The thought of being one girl in the line of many _hurt._

I set myself up for this. I knew what I was getting into. No one to blame but myself.

I strode past the seemingly never-ending line of people outside the club and waited by the curb for Franklin. It was dark out and Vinewood boulevard was busier than ever. Steaming food carts dotted the sidewalks, and street vendors were out in droves selling artwork and novelty T-shirts. The roads were clogged with cars moving at a snail's pace, angry drivers spewed threats at one another as they slowly drifted along.

"Man, the traffic in this motherfucker…" Franklin grumbled.

 _Crap._ It was going to take Franklin forever to get here with this kind of traffic. I just wanted to go home so I could break down and be miserable without anyone around to judge me. I hated crying in public.

"Blondie!" Chad's voice pierced the noisy city air. My heart dropped. I immediately set off around the corner. _God! Why wouldn't he just leave me alone?_

He captured me by the waist, his arms tightened into steel bands. "Come back to the party." His voice took on a serious, demanding edge.

"I wouldn't have left if you weren't such a dick."

"Chad needs you to be there."

"Why?"

"To make Claire jealous," he said. "Chad wants her back and you're gonna help him make it happen." He dipped a hand into his pocket and whipped out his wallet. "What's it gonna take for you to play nice, huh? Name your price."

Like a punch to the gut, his words left me breathless.

Chad was never interested in me. This was all about Claire. _Lying fucking asshole._ I could literally kill him right now.

My heart hammered painfully against my ribs. I couldn't breathe. I couldn't think. It was too much. The lying, the hurt—all of it was too much. Feeling caged in and claustrophobic by his iron-like grip, I threw my head back and screamed bloody murder. One second Chad was all over me and the next, he was sprawled on the concrete ground holding his face. Franklin appeared between him and I, vibrating with fury.

"What the fuck!" Chad squealed, his nose shooting blood despite the two hands he used to staunch it with.

"Put yo' hands on her again, motherfucker," my best friend threatened, "and I'll break every bone in yo' motherfuckin' body. You understand me?"

Chad shot a hand up in surrender. "I get it, dude! Chill!"

"Chad!" Claire appeared at his side. "Oh, God, are you okay?"

I shrunk close to Franklin, unnerved by the number of eyes on us. Claire could handle things from here. Her and Chad belonged together. "Frank, let's go. Please."

His fingers interlaced with mine, he escorted me to the car. I waited until we pulled away from the curb to start crying.

***

I spent the night and the following morning in Franklin's arms. With him, I was safe. From Chad. From everyone.

The crappy series of events that took place at the masquerade party dealt a serious blow to my self-confidence. All those hours wasted preparing for that date, only for things to end in disaster. The situation felt so out of my control…

Damn Chad to hell for pulling me into his drama with Claire. There were better ways to win a girl back—ways that didn't include using others as collateral damage. He was playing me from the start and the painful, humiliating truth ate at me relentlessly.

If I hid under the covers long enough, maybe I'd disappear. But my best friend had other plans. "We can't stay in bed forever, girl."

I managed a dull response, "Why not?"

"The world don't stop 'cause of one bad date. You still got shit to do, things to experience, lessons to learn. Life goes on."

"That's easy for you to say. You don't know what it's like to have your emotions played with like a toy. You just don't get it." My vision wavering behind unshed tears, I closed my eyes.

"Last night was fucked up, I feel you." He sighed. "But there ain't no point moping over shit you can't change."

"Funny coming from you, the most moody and brooding person I know." I sniffed. "I feel so stupid. I thought Chad was different."

"Trace…" He turned and spooned against my back, wrapping one arm around me and tucking me tightly against his powerful body. My stomach did a quick somersault. Despite the countless hours we spent curled up together, cuddling and holding one another, his closeness was heavenly, just as tantalizingly sweet as the first time he held me months ago.

I snuggled into the warm physical affection I _so_ desperately needed. His touch was familiar now, a routine part of my life that I couldn't seem to live without.

"Frat boy was trippin'. Fuck him. You deserve better." His voice softened. "You deserve the world, baby."

The gentle sincerity of his tone struck a tender spot inside me. Opening my teary eyes, I swallowed past the knot of emotion lodged in my throat and rolled over to face him. His lips parted in a dazzling display of white teeth, the sunshine peeking through the window shades illuminating his magnificent amber gaze. I cupped his cheek, admiring the natural glow of his breathtaking face in the golden light.

 _God_ , Franklin was beautiful, and he was so easily pushing his way into my heart. It was scary how much he meant to me. A few sweet words followed by a gentle smile, Chad was pushed to the back of my mind and my day was instantaneously better.

"I ain't finna let you stay cooped up in this depressing ass room forever." With a sudden burst of energy, Franklin threw our covers off and rose from the bed. He pulled back the window curtains, flooding my room in the warm rays of the afternoon sun.

I squinted, momentarily blinded by the sudden change in light. "Jeez, that's bright!"

"The weather's nice, girl. We should be out there enjoyin' it. Let's do something, go somewhere. Wanna stop by yo' favorite noodle spot in Vespucci? We can do some window shopping too, maybe go on one of the rides?"

I shrugged, rubbing my eyes. "But you never want to go on any of the rides. You hate them."

"Yeah, well, I'm willin' to make an exception. Just this once." He hovered over the side of the bed and stared at me expectantly. "You down to roll with me?"

"I don't feel like going anywhere. Why can't we stay here?"

"Here ain't no good for you. You need fresh air. _We_ need fresh air." As if I were as light as a feather, he gathered me into his arms bridal style and whisked me into the hall. My arm hooked around his neck, I pouted as he set me down in front of the bathroom door. "Go get ready. We bounce in ten."

He turned for the stairs, but I pulled him right back in. The thought of being apart from him for ten lonely, lousy minutes made my heart sink to my toes. _Talk about clingy._ "You can't go without giving me a hug first, silly."

His arms enveloped my waist, our foreheads nuzzling. Flustered by how closely his full lips hovered over mine, a shudder passed through me. The air around us felt electrified. I was drawn to him like a magnet, the intangible _pull_ grew stronger and stronger by the day.

We could go anywhere in the world, do anything—I didn't care. As long as we were together.

"I hate when you leave," I murmured. "Even if it's for a little while."

"You won't have to miss me for long," his warm breath ghosted my lips. "I'll always come back to you. For as long as you need me."

My pulse leaped. I withdrew, carefully studying his expression for any sign of dishonesty. "What if I needed you forever?"

"Forever?" He furrowed a brow. "Pretty sure you'd get tired of my ass long before then—"

I threw my arms around his neck and squeezed. "No, never!"

My playful, clinging grasp made him laugh and I couldn't help but smile at the rare sound. He lifted me off my feet and spun me around, crushing my body against him in a bear hug. Giggling and squealing, I was nearly out of breath by the time he set me down.

"It's official—we're BFFs now," I declared. "We're stuck together."

"I ain't complaining." He cupped my cheek in his hand, the pad of his thumb brushed sensually over my curved lips. "I missed your pretty smile, girl."

My heart turned over from his tender words, and his fiercely intimate caress sent heat rushing through me. _BFFs?_ Who am I kidding? If anything, Franklin and I were teetering on the very edge of friendship and something more. The kiss we shared yesterday was still fresh in my mind. Although it was meant to be an emotionless practice between friends, it felt… _real._ Passionate. Loving.

I wanted to explore the depth of those feelings more, but my hopes had been dashed so ruthlessly in the past that dismay won out. I was terrified of ruining our friendship. My throat ached from all the unspoken words I've swallowed out of fear of rejection. Fear of saying something or doing something stupid to scare him away. Franklin was intelligent, responsible, sensible, wise beyond his years—he's everything I'm not. Why would he want to be with a screw up like me?

Not to mention, he was effing _hot._ _God_ , _why is he so perfect?_

His eyes sought and held mine, searching with such a deeply serious intensity, it startled me. "There's something on yo' mind," he stated.

Instinctively, I retreated a step from the unexpected scrutiny. "H-how do you know?"

"Whenever you're thinking 'bout something, you're quiet. Uncomfortably quiet. You wrinkle your nose and stare off into space, sometimes you twirl yo' finger around in your hair…" He reached out to the touch the ends of my messy strands. "You want me to confide in you. I'm willin' to try, Trace, but effort goes both ways. Don't shut me out."

 _Wow._ From the casual knowledge of my favorite TV shows to my smallest of facial cues that apparently spoke a thousand words, he knew me so intimately. Hiding my emotions from someone who could read me like a book seemed pointless, but I was determined to stick to my guns. For the sake of our friendship.

"I'd never shut you out, Frank. It's just…" Suddenly weary from the battle of keeping my feelings for him bottled up tight, I sagged against the wall to maintain my footing. He reached out to steady me, his arm curled around my waist, pressing me to him. As always, I melted into his arms, the inner turmoil within my heart and mind instantly soothed by his amazingly gentle touch. It felt natural being in his arms, like it was where I belonged. Like home.

"Whoa!" Jimmy's annoying, squealing voice made me squirm. His wide-eyed stare ruining the magic of the moment, I jerked from my best friend's arms. _Yikes, we're totally busted._

Franklin's phone began to chime. He glanced at the screen and frowned. "It's y'all pops, I gotta take this," he shuffled away briskly.

"Tracey!" Jimmy yanked me by the arm into the privacy of his room, which smelled a heck of a lot like cheese and sweaty feet. "I knew something was going on between you and him. I fucking knew it!"

I rolled my eyes. "Shut up, turd. You don't know anything."

"Have you lost your fucking mind? Franklin works for dad! _Our dad_ —who happens to be an overprotective psychopath! When he finds out about this, he'll ground you forever, kill F-Dog and then me for keeping your twisted relationship secret!"

"Oh my God, you are totally blowing this whole thing out of portion."

"This is serious, Tracey!" Jimmy paced the room, flinging his flabby arms around dramatically as he spoke. "Dad kills people all the time! Him and Uncle T—they chop people into pieces and make them disappear, sometimes Trevor eats them!"

Dad and Uncle T had a malicious side for sure, but cutting up body parts and eating them? _No way._ "Look, I know you're totally jealous of me and Franklin's relationship but that's no reason to start spreading lies, okay?"

"Tracey, listen to me—"

"Why should I? There's nothing you can say or do to keep me away from him. We're besties— _forever_. Get over it already, _FATSO!_ "

I turned away, but Jimmy's words stopped me in my tracks. "Ever heard of the phrase 'birds of a feather flock together'? If you think Dad is psychopath, F-Dog is too _._ And chances are, he's _worse._ "

Feeling brittle as cracked glass, I left the room. My moron of a brother had a point, and I _hated_ when he was right.

What if Franklin wasn't the good guy I thought he was?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is my first time writing a slow-ish burn sooo I hope I'm doing a good job lol. Leave a comment, your feedback inspires me to continue this! Thank you so much for reading! Love you guys!


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, I'm back with an update! Enjoy!

After a long while of ugly crying in the bathroom mirror, I finally gathered the strength to shower and get dressed. Too down in the dumps to do my own hair, Franklin was more than happy to arrange it into a bun so I looked somewhat presentable. Not that I cared. If it were up to me, I'd still be in bed.

On the other hand, Franklin looked amazing as usual. We've been lounging about in bed all night and halfway through the following day. Most of those hours he spent holding me, occasionally drying my teary eyes with tissues and uttering reassuring words to help me feel better. Yesterday was restless and difficult for the both of us, but Franklin was a man who rarely looked anything less than absolutely gorgeous on any given day of his life. I might have resented his effortless beauty if he hadn't been the best friend a girl could ever ask for.

The drive to Vespucci was riddled with traffic as expected. Typical big city crap. I stared out the window at the tightly packed cars surrounding us. There was an ambulance and fire truck clogging the flow of traffic ahead, the ear-splitting sirens more annoying than ever. With a sigh, I sagged into my seat. I missed North Yankton. Life was simpler there.

Franklin eyed me from behind the wheel. "You good?"

I shrugged. "Can I ask you a question?"

"Yeah, 'course you can, Trace. Wassup?"

"Have you ever thought about leaving the city?"

"Fo' sho', like once or twice. Every day I see the same ol' shit. Hood niggas and crackheads still robbing and fucking each other up for scraps. Then there's the pretentious, lame ass motherfuckers in Vinewood who strut around with they nose up in the air and a stick up they ass…" He shook his head. "Could use a change of scenery, but I ain't too sure a dude like me would fit in nowhere else. Been in Los Santos all my damn life. It's hectic out here but shit, it's all I know."

"We deserve better than this crap, Frank. I'm so sick of this place." I turned to face him. "We should totally ditch Los Santos. Let's leave and never come back. Just you and me."

He gazed at me and chuckled. "Trace…"

I gripped at the sleeve of his shirt. "We can start a life somewhere far away from here. A new beginning. We'd be strangers surrounded by new faces in a new city, maybe a small town. Wouldn't that be awesome? No one can tell us what to do, or how to live our lives. We'd be happy."

His brows furrowed. "For real?"

I cut him a sharp look, my arms crossed over my chest. I've never been more serious a day in my life.

He stiffened. "I mean, it's a cute idea but…"

"But what? What's stopping us?"

"Your dramatic ass father puttin' a cap in my ass comes to mind."

"Screw Dad." Sucking in a shallow breath, I jerked my gaze away from him. "He wouldn't even notice I'm gone."

"He most definitely would. Mike loves you, girl."

"Right," I rolled my eyes. "That's total B.S. If he loved me, he'd be here. He wouldn't have dumped me and Jimmy on the curb and walked away like we're trash. God, he's such an effing deadbeat, making you take care of all his responsibilities."

"Listen, yo' pops is…" Franklin paused and glanced at me, his eyes softening with sympathy. "Mike is a complicated dude. He cares 'bout you and Jimmy, but there's some heavy shit he's going through—shit you wouldn't understand."

"Shit I wouldn't understand?" My mind spun. Dad and his fucking secrets! If he told us what the hell was going on instead of shutting everyone out, our family wouldn't be so dysfunctional. I snapped at Franklin. "Who are you to tell me what I can and can't understand? If anything, you're the one who's not understanding! You've never had a father! You don't understand anything!"

Gritting his teeth, his grip on the steering wheel tightened, the leather creaking beneath the force of his grasp. He averted his gaze from me, the softness in his eyes faded into cool detachment. The impalpable walls he used to keep the world at bay rose between us once again. I bit my lip, wishing I could take back every word.

Finally, the emergency vehicles up ahead moved, and traffic began to flow once again. There was a heavy silence between us as he drove, a cold chill swept over me. The nagging quiet gnawed at my conscience. Franklin was always good to me, always considerate of my volatile emotions and triggers. And what do I go and do in return? Be a total bitch to him.

I owed him an apology, but getting the words out wasn't easy. He abruptly let out a long, drawn-out yawn, and I jumped at the opportunity to change the subject. "Are you tired?"

"A lil' bit," he replied. "Didn't get much sleep last night. You were tossing and turning, crying in yo' sleep. Whimpering. Kicked me a few times too."

"Oh." Awkward. "I didn't mean to…"

"It's cool. You had a rough night, girl. But you handled it a'ight. No panic attacks at least."

"If you didn't show up at the club when you did, I might've." I opened my palm to him in a gesture of apology. "Still wanna be cuddle buddies? Promise not to hit you again."

"No doubt. Can't get rid of me that easy." Leaving one hand on the steering wheel, he clasped my wrist with the other, his thumb caressed my palm in gentle circles. It was a delicate gesture, deliberately affectionate. Forgiving.

My heart swelled. In that moment, I adored him fiercely. "Frank, about what I said earlier…I shouldn't have snapped at you like that. My life sucks right now, and I'm barely holding it together, but that's no excuse for taking it out on you. I'm sorry."

"Everybody got their bad days, Trace. Healing takes time. It's a process, usually an ugly one, but it's all good. We'll get through the bad shit one day at a time. Together."

We arrived at our destination a few moments later, and I didn't let go of his hand as we strolled down the sunny streets of Vespucci Canals. The hedge-lined waterway stirred with fast riders on jet skis and buskers played music along the sidewalk. The aroma of grilled food waded enticingly through the air from the nearby restaurants. There was multi-lane traffic and flyers being passed around for special events and products. The city was filled with its ordinary chaotic motion, but Franklin was the center of my attention.

He was like a puzzle, a walking, talking, lethally sexy mystery that I couldn't seem to piece together. Him and I were complete opposites. I was loud and eccentric, my emotions all over the place. He was levelheaded, composed, way too sane for a guy who grew up in the nuttiest city in all the West Coast. And still, we were best friends. He spent every waking moment of his day dealing with my problems and mood swings. Why?

It'd be nice to believe Franklin cared for me, but every caring thing he's done so far was motivated by Dad in some way or another. We would've never met if Dad hadn't dumped his responsibilities on Frank in the first place.

My dad was insane, and the people who worked for him were even more so. Franklin being the exception…or was he? Everyone associated with Dad were either robbers, murderers, or nosy federal agents. What category did Franklin fall under? As badly as I wanted to know the truth, deep down, it terrified me.

Was I better off not knowing? If I learned his truth, it could ruin everything…

He hooked an arm around my shoulders, yanking me from my thoughts. "Ay, girl, why you so quiet?"

"I'm thinking," I said.

"'Bout what?"

"About you."

A playful smile tugged at his lips, the sunlight streaming over the metropolis enriched his flawless skin with a beautifully golden glow. I was hyperaware of his towering presence beside me. The streets were packed with various faces but his masculine, perfectly sculptured features were damn near irresistible in comparison. The way he moved, with arrogant grace and purpose, it put every single man in a two-mile radius to shame.

His mischievous smile grew wider. "How often you think 'bout me?"

All the time. Not that I'd admit it. "Wouldn't you like to know?"

"Mhm. I gotta know what's going on in that little head of yours. Especially if it has anythin' to do with me."

"Why do you care?" I stepped in front of him. "I'm sure there's plenty of other things you could be doing right now than hanging out with me. You feel responsible for my family and I because of Dad, but I don't want you to be here if its forced."

His features hardened. Seemingly agitated, a muscle in his jaw ticked. "Believe it or not, there's a lot of shit that I do independently of Michael. The world don't revolve around yo' pops."

I cursed inwardly for offending him. Regardless of his reasons, he was making an effort to be here for me and I needed to give him credit for that, not discouragement. "I just want the truth, Frank. I'm trying to figure you out. There are some days where I feel like I know you so well, and others where you're a complete mystery."

"Trace." He sighed heavily, the hard tension leaving him with that frustrated exhalation. He rose his pinky to me, and I didn't hesitate to lock my finger around his. "I trust you. I need you to trust me too, a'ight?"

I hesitated, nodding in silent agreement. He was right, trust was a two-way street. I had to meet him halfway, or at least try.

"I told you once," he said, "and I'ma tell you again. I'm here for you because I want to be." The words rolled off his tongue slowly yet purposefully, every vowel and consonant filled with a quiet intensity. "After the shit that went down last night between you and the frat boy, I don't blame you for the cynicism. If I were you, I wouldn't be too trusting of cats right now either."

"I thought I was in control of everything," I murmured. "If I plan and prepare for what I want, thoroughly, then everything will fall into place."

Franklin quirked a brow. "Sounds like something yo' pops would say. He taught you that?"

"He did. But then last night happened and I realized Dad couldn't be anymore wrong." I frowned. "All the time we spent preparing for that date with Chad and everything went to crap anyway. Our hard work and dedication was for nothing. We'll never get that time back, Frank." I ran a shaky hand through my hair. "I don't want to get hurt again. Not by you. Not by anyone."

He drew close, the movement and commotion of the city ceased to exist as he stroked my cheek with the back of his knuckles. I touched a hand to his broad chest, relishing the sensation of his tender caress and strong heartbeat beneath my palm. His eyes found mine, the warm intensity of his luminous hazel gaze left me breathless once again, sucking the air straight out of my lungs.

From his dark, neatly trimmed hair to his impeccably angled jaw that emanated power and determination, Franklin was a work of impossible masculine beauty. It was so easy to get lost in his eyes. All it took was one prolonged, searching look and my heart would do cartwheels in my chest, followed by heat rushing to my cheeks. And this time was no different.

"Me and the frat boy ain't the same," his tone deepened, masculine and oh so sure of himself. "If I had a chance with you last night, I wouldn't have fucked it up. You'd already be mine."

It took me two full seconds to process his words, the cadence of his husky, sinfully rich voice reverberated through me. I inhaled sharply, my body burning, aching to erase the distance between us. I wished Chad and Franklin had switched places last night with every fiber of my being. To be more than best friends—to be exclusively and irrevocably his…the fierce longing stripped me of my ability to speak. I fumbled for words, lost in the heartrending tenderness of his gaze.

The ringing of my phone in my purse made me shudder, I was wired so tight. It was a welcome distraction though, because I was seriously tempted to jump Franklin's bones right then and there in public.

Turning away from my hot best friend to regain my sanity, I answered the call. "Hello?"

"Tracey!" Jimmy's annoying, whiny voice blurted into my ear. "You gotta help me! Please! I'm so screwed! I'm naked! In an alleyway!"

"You're naked?" My heart skipped a beat. He sounded panicked, anxious. "Jimmy? What's going on? Are you okay?"

"No, I'm not fucking okay! Some bitches stole my underwear, pants, shoes—everything! The cops are after me and there's a bum that won't stop looking at my ass!"

Sirens roared in the background. Screaming too. But there was one crucial part of this crazy scenario that I couldn't comprehend. "Why the effing hell are you naked in an alleyway with bums?"

"Now isn't a good time for questions! I'll tell you everything later, okay?"

"If this is another one of your stupid pranks, I will seriously kill you."

"This isn't a joke! Noodle Exchange in Rockford Hills—get here! And don't tell Mom and Dad, please!"

He hung up. I stared at my phone in disbelief. Fan-friggin'-tastic. What the heck did my stupid brother get himself into this time?

I turned to face my best friend. "Jimmy is in trouble."

"Heard he was butt-ass naked in an alleyway," Franklin said way too casually, as if the strange turn of events were nothing out of the ordinary. Just another day in Los Santos. "Let's go find his dumb ass before he becomes somebody's bitch."

With no time to waste, we jogged back to the car. "He's behind the Noodle Exchange in Rockford Hills," I fastened my seatbelt. "Hurry!"

Franklin floored it, smoke pouring off the tires. He weaved in and out of traffic with ease, cutting through knots of cars with effortless finesse. We were going way past the speed limit in a busy intersection. Vehicles and people everywhere. And somehow, he managed to react to every entity that stood in our way, executing a slight, and well controlled swerve just before the moment of impact. When did he learn how to drive so well? His display of expert steering and godlike reflexes was amazing to watch.

The adrenaline! When the tires screeched into a stop outside the noodle shop, my heart was hammering so fast, I thought it'd burst straight from my chest. There were two policemen in the alley, shining their flashlights into trash cans and dumpsters in search of who I assumed to be my moron brother. Ugh. Not good.

"Think you can distract the Five-O while I take a look around for Jimmy?" Franklin suggested.

"Sure. I'll play entitled damsel in distress. Cops fall for it every time." Leaving my purse in the backseat, we hopped out of the car. I clasped his hand just before we parted. "Frank, please don't let anything happen to my idiot brother."

"I got you. Don't worry." He planted a quick kiss on my forehead before leaving, our fingers remained intertwined until distance pulled them apart.

I flushed, touching a palm to my forehead. His lips were so soft…

Pull yourself together, Tracey! Now wasn't the time to obsess over Franklin's full, sexy mouth. Right now, Jimmy was the priority.

Rubbing my eyes until they were bloodshot and irritated for a sad, hopeless damsel in distress effect, I cried out to the cops. "Help! Over here! Someone please! I'm a scared, helpless girl who's been wronged! Give me attention!"

The officers' heads snapped in my direction. They rushed to my side. "What's your emergency? Are you okay, Miss?"

"Do I look okay?" My voice raised to a whiny, entitled pitch. "I am a law-abiding citizen of the United States. I pay you assholes a crapload of taxes to protect me and my property. And this is how you repay me? You let some creep steal my purse right under your noses?"

The cops stared at me blankly, utterly confused. Over their shoulders, I saw Franklin sneak into the alleyway undetected. Yes!

I kept up the act. "Hello? Do you hear me? Some shady bastard snatched my effing purse! Why are you just standing there? Do something!"

"Right away, ma'am!" The officers set their sights on some random homeless guy taking a piss on the side of a building. "Freeze! You're under arrest!"

"Argh!" They tackled the poor bum to the ground and started stomping on him. "Mercy! Por favor! I poopoo and peepee never again! Por favor!"

A pang of regret shot through me. I called out to the cops, "You got the wrong guy! The perp went that way!" I pointed down the street. The officers released the poor bum and took off in the direction I indicated. Whew.

Jimmy emerged from the alley, barefoot and running naked in the breeze with his hands covering his wiener. Oh my god. Turning away from the super gross sight, I held the car door open for him. He dived inside. Slamming the door shut behind him, I climbed into the front passenger seat. Franklin appeared and took the wheel a moment later.

"Drive!" Jimmy demanded. "Go! Go! Go!"

We peeled off and an awkward silence filled the space. I glared at Jimmy through the rearview mirror. He was curled up in a ball, moping in the backseat. I would've been pissed at him if he didn't look so pathetic.

Shivering beneath my scrutiny, he shot up and threw his hands into the air dramatically. "If you have something to say, Tracey, just say it already!"

"You're an idiot," I said.

"Wow. The dumbest person here has the nerve to insult my intelligence. Typical."

"You're calling me dumb?" Twisting at the waist, I faced him. "Screw you. If it weren't for me, you'd still be naked and afraid in that alleyway. Probably being molested by a bum or worse."

"Whatever," he shrugged. "Don't hate the playa, hate the game."

"What?" I grimaced. "Do you even know what that phrase means, idiot?"

Franklin budded into the conversation. "Ay, Jim, tell us what went down, dawg. The fuck happened to yo' clothes? I'm dyin' to hear this shit."

"I was kicking it with some lady friends," Jimmy said, "just shooting the shit, you know? It was innocent at first, F-Dog, I swear. We were only going out for noodles. Like, noodles and chill but without the sex."

"Uh-huh," Franklin smirked. "Then what happened?"

"We had a couple cheap drinks, smoked some weed in the alley, no big deal. Then the ladies decided on a whim that I was sexy. They wanted to bang me on the spot, homie. No holds barred sex in public. And of course, I was down for it. I'm no pussy. I'm Big-J to the jizzle for rizzle. I put the E in exhibitionist, you feel me?"

I rolled my eyes. I cannot believe me, and this dingus were raised in the same household for so many years.

"A'ight, Big-J," Franklin smothered a grin. "Now get to the part where shit went wrong."

"I took off my clothes, and then, well…" He swallowed deep, his shoulders stumped. "Those bitches snatched up my duds and ran off. Good thing you guys showed up when you did. Dad'll kill me if I get another indecent exposure offense on my criminal record."

"Another?" Franklin furrowed his brows. "Damn, man, what happened the first time?"

"It doesn't matter what happened the first time," I sighed. "Jimmy, you need to stop dropping your pants on impulse. Seriously, you have a problem."

"I'm not the only one with the problem," Jimmy said. "You've dropped your panties for just about every guy in Los Santos—"

"Shut up!" I reached behind my seat and swatted at him.

"Hey!" He slapped at my hands. "Stop hitting me!"

"Make me, fat ass!"

He grabbed a chunk of my hair and yanked. "Slut!"

I screamed loud enough to shake the car. Franklin intervened, shoving his muscled arm between Jimmy and I, separating us. "Screaming and fighting like wild fucking animals ain't finna solve shit," he shot us a cold, disapproving look before returning his eyes to the road. "Y'all family. Learn how to get along."

Jimmy grumbled, "She started it."

"Whatever," I whimpered, rubbing at my sore scalp. A hot wave of embarrassment washed over me. My brother and I were bickering like children and we both knew better than that. Well, at least I did.

Franklin passed me a sidelong glance, his eyes laced with concern. He mouthed to me furtively so Jimmy wouldn't notice, You okay?

I reassured him with a nod, resisting the temptation to grab his hand as a source of comfort. Jimmy could be such an ungrateful turd sometimes.

***

On account of Jimmy ruining our beach plans, we went home and ordered Chinese instead. Night had fallen over Los Santos and the full moon rose high above the cityscape. After an awesome meal of pan-fried dumplings alongside my best friend, I laid a blanket in the backyard over the sparkling dew-drenched grass and together, we watched the clouds drift by.

"There's the Big Dipper," I rose a hand to the sky, tracing the cup and long handle with my finger.

"Hard to believe parts of the constellations are still visible in Los Santos, considering all the light pollution and shit goin' on." He settled a hand behind his head, propping himself up like a pillow. Our shoulders brushed. "What's it like in North Yankton? Plenty of stars there, right?"

"It's teeming with stars, actually. It's beautiful. You'd love it."

"No doubt." He glanced at me. "You think Big-J finna be alright?"

"Yikes, that nickname…" I cringed. "Please don't call him that. It's terrible. You're mocking him."

A wry grin tipped up one corner of his mouth. "Shit, it's hard not to. Yo' brother is…"

"A complete jackass, I know. But he'll be fine." I let out a short laugh and shook my head. "God, you must think my family is crazy."

He agreed without a shred of doubt. "Y'all most definitely are."

"Shut up. You love us." I rested my head on his shoulder. "Thanks, by the way. For helping Jimmy. For turning my day around for the better. It felt like the world was ending this morning. Nothing made sense. I was miserable. Hurt. I wanted to hide away and disappear. And now…" My voice faded, a knot forming in my throat from my overwhelming gratitude.

Franklin was my light in the darkness. He dispensed hope and compassion without judgement. Whenever I needed it most. What would I do without him?

Drawn to his warmth like a magnet, I snuggled against him, breathing in the familiar, comforting scent of his skin.

He tensed, his expression grew serious. "Jimmy ain't too comfortable with us, you know…"

"Uncomfortable with what? Our open and loving friendship?" I scoffed. "Who cares? Our relationship is none of his business."

"Yeah?" He studied me for a beat. "I heard y'all arguing over me earlier. I don't wanna cause a rift between you two. I'm here to make your life easier, Trace. Not harder."

"He's worried that Dad will find out about how close we are," I frowned. "He might overreact and do something crazy. He has a track record for that sorta thing."

My warning didn't seem to faze him. Muscles relaxing, his arm hitched around my waist and pulled me closer.

"I ain't scared of yo' pops."

"Most people are," I said. "But you aren't like most people, are you?"

"You tell me." Gently, he tilted my chin up with his finger, our eyes met. "What you see when you look at me?"

"My best friend who happens to have some weird, secret relationship with my shady father. Only bad people tend to be associated with my dad." Nerves dancing in my stomach, I looked away. "I hope you aren't bad too."

"Let's be real, I ain't perfect. I've done my fair share of fucked up shit too. I can be just as much of an asshole as everybody else in this motherfucker. You got every right to be skeptical." He regarded me quizzically for a moment. "Despite all that, you're still here. With me. Why?"

My spine stiffened. "I don't know. It's hard to explain—"

"Try," he urged softly.

I swallowed deep, trying to calm myself. The heat of his probing gaze made my stomach churn. Having a heart to heart conversation with Franklin was easy. But sharing feelings that pertained to him exclusively? Not so easy.

"You're good to me, Frank," I said. "Beneath that tough bravado and all your defense mechanisms, there's a light inside you. Every now and then, I see glimpses of that light. Of you. The real you. I wish you'd let down your walls so I can see you more often."

He threaded his fingers through my hair. "Emotional intimacy ain't my strong suit, but I'm tryin' to swim with the tide. I can be what you need, girl. Just gotta get over the learning curve first."

"Don't feel pressured to be anyone but yourself. You're perfect the way you are." Absentmindedly, I toyed with the diamond stud winking in his ear. "Now it's your turn. What do you see when you look at me?"

"A flower," he answered casually.

"Me? A flower? Seriously?" I giggled. "That was not the answer I was expecting. Tell me more. Explain."

He snorted a sheepish laugh and shook his head. "Do I have to?"

"Yes! It's only fair. If you're trying to learn how to be more emotionally intimate, what better place to start than voicing your innermost thoughts to your bestie? Now spill the beans. Be vulnerable. Speak from the heart." I held him a fraction tighter. "Trust me."

"A'ight, a'ight…" He exhaled a long, audible breath, his chest rose and fell heavily. And then he spoke, his voice low and remarkably gentle. "Whenever I look at you, I see a flower I gotta protect. You're delicate, baby. Pretty. Beautiful. But you were withering when I found you, girl. Frequent panic attacks, stress from school, loneliness."

My pulse leaped. Holy crap! He thinks I'm beautiful! It was such a relief to know the attraction between us was mutual.

"I'm not alone anymore," I smiled. "You're here."

"Ain't nowhere else I rather be."

We laid there snuggling for a long while, quiet and simply enjoying one another's company as time melted away. Everything was perfect, until my mind started to drift into uncharted territory. The chiseled angles of his face illuminated by the pale moonlight, Franklin's soft lips presented a wonderful temptation that was impossible to ignore. It didn't help that he smelled so good. With every slight movement his muscles would ripple beneath my fingertips, warning of his well-exercised strength. I could feel how powerful his shoulders were. How beautifully his biceps flexed and moved…

Tension thickened the blood in my veins. Afraid of doing something I might regret and disrupting the delicate balance between us, I blurted, "Be right back. Gonna grab a drink." I shifted from his arms and retreated into the house.

Running away and taking a breather was a reliable method of resisting him for now. But I was living a lie, pretending I was okay with only his friendship when I wanted—needed so much more. How long could I keep this up?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you guys enjoyed the chapter! Leave a comment, let me know if you like, or dislike how the story is going so far! Honest feedback is greatly appreciated! Follow Anboringday on tumblr, or hit me up if you just wanna talk! I love you guys!


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back with an update! Please enjoy!

I rubbed at my throbbing temples as I glanced at another flashcard. After a three-hour long study session, the words were beginning to blur together. _Ugh._ College was the worst. Mid-term week was rearing its ugly head and I was _not_ prepared. I _hate_ music. I _hate_ math. I _hate_ literature. I _hate_ everything!

I slammed my flashcards down on my desk and pushed myself up from my chair. With an exaggerated whimper, I flopped on the bed beside Franklin. His nose buried deep in my _History of Western Music_ textbook, he didn't seem to notice my suffering.

In fact, he looked totally relaxed and at peace. Dressed in a fitted T-shirt and sweatpants, my house was like a second home to him. And my room was a sanctuary, a safe place we could retreat to when life started to suck. Simply shutting the door closed the world out, no one could harm or judge us. We could be ourselves. We could dance, sing, be silly, scream, and cry—we were free to open our bleeding hearts to one another without consequence.

I wouldn't trade it for the world.

Eyes narrowed with the effort of reading, he scratched at his jaw. It was a simple, fleeting movement, but it captured my attention regardless. His luxuriant beard, neatly trimmed by an expert hand, was the perfect length for a girl to rake her fingers through. Combined with his powerful muscles, strong jaw, and the way he carried himself with a commanding air of self-confidence…he was just so _manly._

"You're staring," he murmured, his gaze still glued to that stupid textbook.

 _Crap._ Heat rose to my cheeks. Burying my blushing face against his shoulder, I tickled his sides. Stifling a laugh, he squirmed and shifted away from me. "Ay, stop that."

I shoved a hand between him and the book pages, blocking the words. "Why? Am I bothering you?"

"No shit," he said. "You know I'm doing this for you, right? You begged me to read through all this history bullshit so I could help you understand it, remember?"

"I'm tired of studying. Let's do something else." I poked his chest. "Wanna watch a movie? Go shopping? We could always hang out at the mall."

He gave me an incredulous look. "Girl, you got midterms in a couple of days. You should be studying—"

" _No_!" I set my lips in a pout. "I thought you were my best friend! Admit it, you hate me."

"Well, you did hog the blankets last night."

"Oh my God, you never take me seriously." I splayed the back of my hand over my forehead as if faint. "I can't keep living like this. I'm miserable."

He mocked me with a smirk. "This the part where you tell me yo' life is over 'cause you stubbed your toe? Misplaced yo' lipstick or some insignificant shit like that?"

"You're right, I lost something."

His teasing expression stalled and grew serious. "Shit, what'd you lose? I'll help you find it."

"My will to live."

He sighed. "Don't be so dramatic, girl."

"You don't get it. I _suck_ at tests. All I want is for Mom and Dad to be proud of me, but maybe this whole college thing was a mistake. My classes are way harder than I thought they'd be."

"You finna pass those midterms, a'ight? You got this." He tipped up my chin with his finger, wordlessly demanding I look at him. "No matter what happens, yo' parents won't ever stop loving you. They'll be proud of you regardless, Trace. Don't even sweat that shit."

Feeling inexplicably hot for some reason, I stood and turned on the AC. "I really hope you're right."

"Ain't I always?" His phone chimed. He glanced at the screen, grimaced, and quickly swiped left to reject the call.

I returned to his side. Curled up against him, I rested my head in his lap. His fingers slid through my hair, brushing back the strands from my forehead. "Who was that?" I asked.

"Nobody." His answer was clipped, too dismissive for comfort.

Curiosity getting the better of me, I continued to pry. "Must have been someone. Tell me."

"Uh, it was that girl I was chilling with at the bar, while you were on yo' date with the frat boy. I think her name was La'Quaysha or La'Quisha…" He paused, his brows knotted together. "Coulda been Barbeesha—I ain't too sure."

"Barbeesha? Seriously?" I grinned. "You went on a date with this chick and you don't even remember her name?"

"I didn't spend but fifteen minutes with her before you called me to pick you up. She wasn't too happy 'bout me leaving out of the blue"—he shrugged somewhat fatalistically—"but it is what it is."

I frowned, my chest heavy with the sheer weight of my own guilt. When I called him, I had no consideration for his time or his plans. Distressed and overwhelmed with emotion because of Chad, I was enclosed in a bubble of my own misery and I couldn't see past it. I was selfish.

Although, deep down, I was relieved things turned out the way it did. The mere thought of him being around another girl, let alone on a _date_ with her, made my skin crawl and my blood boil. It _hurt_ to imagine him touching someone else, smiling and looking at her with the same tenderness he showed me.

I bet La'Quaysha or La-Quisha—whatever her name is—was all over him too. Even though he gave her nothing more than fifteen minutes of his time, she was interested in him still. Or else she wouldn't have called. Who could blame her? He was the literal definition of tall, dark, and handsome. And it only took one glance at his custom-made diamond watch and designer clothes to tell he was friggin' rich.

"Do you think you'll see her again?" I mumbled. My voice didn't sound like mine, dull and clogged by my own insecurities.

"Preferably not," he said. "Five minutes into the date, I got the vibe she wasn't down for anything serious. Just wanted free drinks and a quick fuck."

A fierce revulsion swept over me. My stomach hardened to stone. I shot up and pivoted to face him. "If that bitch is horny, tell her to buy an effing vibrator. You are _not_ a toy she can play with."

A wry smile twisted his lips. "Damn straight, Trace. Preach."

"I'm serious," I bit out. "Avoid her. She's not worth the time or money."

Franklin's smile fading, he responded with an arched brow. I didn't realize I was clutching onto his wrist with bruising force until his gaze lowered to my hand. Red-faced and thoroughly embarrassed by my blatant display of possessiveness, I quickly released him. "I-I'm sorry. I just…I think you can do better."

I stood and left the room, needing the space. And a breather. My head still hammering from my long study session and mounting stress, I grabbed a towel and filled a bowl with hot water for a warm compress. With the curtains blocking out most of the sunlight, the living room was dark and quiet enough for relaxation. I curled up on the couch with my legs tucked beneath me, laid my compress across my forehead, and closed my eyes.

***

I woke sometime later to smelly breath and slobber on my cheek. Forcing my eyes open, Chop appeared, his hefty paws tapping on the floor with such unbridled excitement, it looked like he was dancing. What a cutie. Wiping the slobber from my face with my towel, I opened my arms and the giant furball jumped into my lap for cuddles and snuggles.

With a leash in hand, Franklin leaned over the top couch cushions. He greeted me with a soft pat on my head. "Sorry for leaving without letting you know, didn't wanna wake you."

"What?" I glanced out the window. A blanket of darkness had fallen over the city. Jeez, nighttime already? "How long have you been gone?"

"'Bout two hours. Had to pick up Chop from my homie's crib. He got some shit to do and won't be back 'til tomorrow." He gave his dog some scratches behind the ears. "Can't leave Little Homie in the backyard unsupervised, I've seen him jump over too many damn fences to count."

"Chop is always welcome to stay here, you know. There's plenty of space in the yard for him to run around and explore. And we can walk him every day together. Can he play Frisbee? _Oh!_ We can take him to the dog park! He can play with the other doggos, it'll be so cute! He'll have so much fun!"

"Trace, Chop finna be here for only one night. And I'ma be watching his ass like a hawk the entire time." Franklin snapped his fingers. Chop's ears pricked up at the sound, he hopped off the couch and sat obediently at my best friend's feet. "Stay there, boy. I'll be back in a bit." He gathered a few unwashed dishes from off the coffee table, including my leftover bowl of water, and headed into the kitchen.

I followed him. "Hey, why are you being mean to Chop? He's a doggie! He deserves to run free."

"You might be cool with a Rottweiler running free around yo' crib, but Michael and Amanda ain't." He winced at the sight of the kitchen. Plates stained with last night's dinner were stacked next to our sink overflowing with dirty dishes. There were leftover Chinese food boxes scattered across the island.

"Oops," I managed a laugh. "Looks like me and Jimmy forgot to clean up after ourselves…again."

"No shit," he said with a note of amusement. "You know, when Mike asked me to watch after y'all, I had no idea I'd be babysitting grown ass adults. Most of the time I feel like a butler, but without no damn benefits."

A shiver moved through me. Franklin in a classy butler suit… _yummy_. Nothing beats a sexy man in uniform. I could imagine his rippling muscles bulging from the expensive fabric as he moved in that heart-stopping way of his, with arrogance and fluidity. He was the type of guy that'd make a girl want to undress him with her teeth, slow and worshipfully to give every curve and solid plane of his godlike body the admiration it so rightfully deserved—

"Trace." His voice snapped me back to reality. "Mind helping me clean up a bit?"

"Sure." I rounded up the leftover food cartons and tossed them in the garbage. Then I got to work on wiping down the greasy counters with a soapy sponge.

"Did you see Big-J today?" Franklin asked as he filled the dishwasher with plates.

"Nope, but I'm pretty sure that loser is around here somewhere, probably cooped up in his room as always."

He shook his head. "I went to check on him earlier while you were napping. He wasn't there. Kinda weird for Big-J to bounce without making some big ass grand announcement first."

"Please stop calling him Big-J. If _Jimmy_ left without saying anything, then maybe he didn't want us to know."

Franklin stiffened. "Shit. Should I be worried?"

"Don't be." I pat his broad shoulder reassuringly. "Wherever Jimmy is, I'm sure he's fine. And if, God forbid, something does happen, he has my number on speed dial and won't hesitate to call."

"I hope you're right, girl. I've been meaning to talk to him 'bout yesterday. If we weren't around to save his crazy ass, he'd be in some deep motherfucking shit right now. Locked up or worse." Now that all the dirty dishes were put away, he washed his hands and turned to face me, his expression somber. "One day he's gonna dig himself into a hole we can't pull his ass out of."

"Frank." I placed a hand to his chest. He was anxious, heart racing with concern over my brother. Despite how much of a burden and a headache Jimmy was most of the time, Franklin really cared about him. It was sweet.

He clasped my hand with both of his. "Should I tell yo' pops what went down yesterday?"

"I don't know," I frowned. "Jimmy's relying on us to keep our mouths shut. If one of us snitches, it'll break his trust and knowing my brother, he'll never let us forget it."

"You know better than anyone that lying to Michael is a bad move. I mean, the dude is a pretty big fuckin' liar himself. He's good at reading motherfuckers and seeing through their bullshit."

"The perks of being a crook and a con artist," I sighed. "You were the last one to talk to Dad. Do you know when he's coming home?"

"Nah. Far as I know, yo' parents are still enjoying their vacation together."

"That's what they want you to think." I threw my sponge into the sink and turned for the living room. "The truth of the matter is, we have no effing clue what they're actually up to. But knowing Dad, I'm gonna take a wild guess that whatever he's doing, it's probably illegal. And Mom is enabling it, being the blind and perfect trophy wife while Dad wreaks havoc everywhere he goes."

Franklin joined me on the couch with a bottle of wine in hand. He filled a glass for us both. "You got some serious daddy issues, girl. Wanna talk 'bout it?"

"Heck no. I think I've said more than enough about my parents for one night. I'm stressed out as it is over school. My dysfunctional family should be the last of my worries right now."

"To you and yo' dysfunctional ass family." He clinked his glass against mine and took a drink. "Can't live with 'em, can't live without 'em."

"Story of my life." Gingerly, I sipped my wine. "I should probably get back to studying soon. Still willing to help me with history?"

"Yeah. Not like I got shit else to do—"

The front door swung open with a _thud_ and I jumped, startled to find Jimmy wobbling into the house, holding onto a dozen hot pizza boxes stacked up to his chin. And he wasn't alone. A flock of chatty guests strolled in behind him, laughing and chattering boisterously among one another.

So much for studying.

Struggling to balance the pizza pies, Jimmy carefully set the food down on the coffee table in front of me. "Hey, guys," he greeted Franklin and I with a wide smile. "Did you miss me?"

Some blonde dude in an oversized basketball jersey pulled out a boombox and started blasting gangster rap. People danced and head banged to the beat. A guy carrying a case of beer rushed through the door, which felt super wrong considering there were plenty of young faces here who were most certainly under the legal age to drink. Teenagers and alcohol were recipe for disaster.

"Jimmy!" I screamed at him. "What the hell is going on? Who are these people?"

"These are my homies! Don't you know a _par-tay_ when you see one?" He grabbed my elbows and waved my arms around forcibly. " _Throw your hands in the air, wave them around like you just don't care!"_

"Get off, moron!" I jerked away, and my glass of wine spilled on the white carpet. "Holy crap," I breathed. Mom would literally skin us alive if she saw this.

My best friend appeared beside us. "Jimmy, you didn't think to call before inviting all these motherfuckers over? You can't just be throwing house parties on a whim, man."

"No offense, F-Dog, but I already have a dad"—Jimmy jabbed a finger at Franklin—"and it's _not_ you. Stop telling me what I can and can't fucking do, bro. This is _my_ house. You're just hired help, so why don't you go cook or clean something instead of bitching all the time?"

The glare Franklin shot my brother was deadly. Fists clenched, he was literally vibrating with rage. I've never seen him so livid. Fearing for Jimmy's safety, I latched onto Franklin's arm and dragged him through the gyrating crowd. Escorting him outside for some fresh air, I didn't stop pulling him along until we reached the shadowy driveway.

Veins protruding from his powerful biceps, he dipped into his car and grabbed a blunt from the glove compartment. Leaning against the doorframe, I watched him smoke his weed down to his fingertips in silence. I didn't care for the smell, but everyone had their coping mechanisms.

His eyes were slightly red, but overall, he seemed to be handling the high well. A few hits of a well-rolled joint brought out the giggles in most people, and it could floor the less tolerant. Franklin however, seemed somewhat numb to the effects. Lips pressed into a flat line, his head hung low in a moody silence. I tapped his elbow, but he had no reaction to my touch, as if he had retreated so far into himself that he became detached with the rest of the world. With me.

I felt my best friend pulling farther and farther away with every second that passed. My mind reeling with confusion, I took a step away from him, imitating the painful distance I felt building between us.

The things Jimmy said to him…the words replayed in my mind and I couldn't help but scowl. Franklin was doing everything in his power to make sure we were happy and provided for in our parent's absence. Instead of being grateful, he was acting like a complete asshole.

Granted, we should be able to care for ourselves, but Mom and Dad pampered us like babies our entire lives. We didn't have the skills or abilities to deal with the everyday challenges of life. We had no clue how to conduct ourselves like adults because we were never taught how. We had our parents as role models, but honestly, they were childish too. And crazy. We were all screwed up.

I was growing with age. The hardships of college were slowly whipping me into shape. Jimmy though…he's a lost cause.

"I didn't know you smoked," I broke the silence.

"I don't." His voice was lifeless and subdued, lacking its usual distinct sensuality. "Had this blunt in the glovebox collecting dust for months. I quit gettin' faded shortly after meeting you. Guess I just fuckin' relapsed."

Unsure of what to say, I settled with, "I'm sorry about Jimmy."

"Ain't your fault." Franklin glanced at the constant stream of people drifting in and out of the house, his jaw tightened. "First thing in the morning, I'ma hit up Michael and tell him to bring his ass back to Los Santos. Clearly, y'all need him." He whistled, and Chop came speeding out of the house, taking his rightful seat in his master's car.

I rubbed at my stomach, trying to quell the unease and anxiety that rooted itself there. "That's—that's it? You're just going to leave?"

"I ain't really in the mood for a party." He stomped out the blunt beneath his boot heel and turned away.

"Are you coming back?"

He didn't respond, but the grim look on his face confirmed my greatest fear.

His silence was devastating. I stared at his back in utter disbelief, my heartbeat pounding. Was this his fucked-up way of saying good-bye? He was just going to walk away like I never existed? Like all the time we spent and the memories we made together meant nothing at all?

_"Frank."_

He froze at my call, hearing the desperation in my voice. Or maybe he sensed my yearning.

"Stay," I pleaded, sour emotion tying knots in my guts. "I know it's been a rough night, but you don't have to leave. Screw Jimmy, you know how he is. He says things without thinking and always regrets it later. Don't hold it against him, okay? Talk to me, don't run—"

"We can't do this forever," he countered coldly.

"Why not? Because of Dad? You said you weren't afraid of him."

"I ain't."

"Then why are you being such a fucking coward?" I cried, struggling to hold back my tears. "How long are you going to live a lie? Just admit it already, you're terrified of my father." He opened his mouth and I held up my palm, his protest spluttered into silence. "You don't even realize how badly my dad has you wrapped around his finger. You're like a beaten, desperate dog jumping hoops to please him. It's pathetic."

His hazel eyes drilled into mine, brutal and hostile, and it only infuriated me more. All I wanted was for him to care about me—to need me as badly as I needed him. But that was never going to happen. I couldn't force him to stay with me. Maybe it was time to let go and move on.

"Have a nice life, Frank. I hope your undying loyalty to Dad works out for you in the end. Maybe he won't let you down like he does everyone else."

I left him there and strode toward the house to nurse my wounds. I couldn't stand to look at Franklin's stupid, handsome face for a second longer. God, his mood swings were the worst. Jimmy pissed him off, I get it, but that's no excuse to project his anger onto me. It was a shitty thing to do and I wasn't gonna put up with it.

The living room stank of cigarettes and sweaty bodies. Keeping my head down to hide my flushed, teary face, I pushed my way through groups of people jumping chaotically to the hip-hop music. Uttering "excuse me" to the rude assholes blocking the steps, I finally made it to my room. Turning the knob, I regretfully discovered my personal little sanctuary had been invaded by horny teenagers.

It took me a moment to register what I was looking at, shocked and standing at the threshold as strangers in the hallway casually passed by. On top of _my_ bed, there were two scantily clad brunettes kissing on a guy, one of them straddling him while the other sucked on his neck.

Fed up with everyone in my life, I picked up one of my nearby heels and threw it at the fuckers on my bed. " _Get out!_ " I screamed at the top of my lungs. Frightened, the horny teenagers shot up and brushed past me for the exit, scrambling like roaches.

Seething and bitter from my consecutive letdowns, I stomped into the living room. Jimmy was standing on top of the couch with a microphone in his hand as the crowd performed a group dance in sync.

 _"Slide to the left, slide to the right,"_ Jimmy sang. " _Ladies, if you got a man, we don't care! Throw that big ol' booty in the air!"_

Jimmy singing was bad enough to make my ears bleed. I snatched the boombox off the coffee table and, without thinking of the significant damages it'd cause, I threw the damn thing out the window. The music immediately stopped once it shattered the glass and ended up somewhere in the bushes outside. Thank God.

"My boombox!" a guy cried out from the crowd.

With every pair of eyes in the room glued to me, I stabbed a finger at the door. "Get the fuck out of my house! _NOW!_ "

A symphony of _booing_ erupted around me. "James, who is this bitch?" a feminine voice spoke over the masses. "She's ruining our party!"

"Everybody, calm down," Jimmy said into the microphone. "That's just my annoying, tramp sister. She can't stop us!"

"That's it!" I whipped out my phone, my blood boiling. "I'm calling Dad—"

Some willowy chick stumbled forward, pretending to trip over her own feet. The cold contents within her glass cup spilled all over me and drenched my cell phone. I was a second away from lunging at the bitch when a strong arm came around my waist, rooting me to the spot. I looked up, nearly losing my footing when I locked eyes with Franklin.

 _He came back!_ My anger toward him melting away into a fierce gratitude, I drew closer to him. There was an entire room of people up at arms against me, but with Franklin at my side, I felt safe.

Very calmly, he announced, "Five-O 'bout to come through."

Franklin's warning—undeniably a bluff—worked like magic. The stubborn partygoers frantically grabbed their belongings and dispersed, flooding the doorway.

"W-wait, don't go!" Jimmy called out to his friends. "The party is just getting started! Who's gonna eat all this pizza?"

Franklin pulled the microphone cord out of the wall socket. "Man, give it a rest. It's over, fool."

His fat face flushing furiously, Jimmy looked ready to explode, his body trembled like a volcano. Glaring daggers into both Franklin and I, he stepped down from the couch and stormed off, bumping shoulders with my best friend on the way out the door.

"Jimmy?" My heart skipped a beat. I ran after him. "Where are you going?"

He turned abruptly on his heel and opened his palm to me expectantly. "Give me your car keys."

"What?"

"I said give me your _fucking_ keys!"

Tired and burned out from all the drama, I dipped a hand into my pocket and gave him what he wanted.

"I totaled my whip earlier, so I'll be taking yours, ho. Fuck you." He hopped into my car and stomped on the gas, the tires screeching as he pulled off. Also, he made sure to flip me the bird before disappearing into traffic. If anyone else would've called me a ho and stole my car, I'd be upset. Traumatized even. But considering my crazy effing brother was the culprit…I wasn't surprised.

The house was in total shambles, glass shards and beer bottles all over the floor. Cigarette butts too. Not to mention, my shirt and phone was soaked with what I presumed to be soda.

I joined Franklin inside. He flashed a rueful smile at the sight of me. "Girl, you have any idea how much it finna cost to fix this damn window?"

"Whatever. I'll get in touch with a repairman tomorrow." Weary to the bone, I dried off my phone and collapsed on the couch. It'd be nice to relax in my bed, but my sheets were going to need a _thorough_ cleaning first. _God, what a day._ I'd do anything for a shower, but I was too emotionally and physically drained to move right now. "I thought you were leaving, Frank."

"I considered it. Then I saw an old ass boombox fly through the motherfuckin' window." Chuckling, he retrieved a broom from the kitchen and began sweeping. "Shit, it would've been easy to bounce and put all this damn drama behind me."

Because I heard it hanging in the air, I filled it in. "But…?"

"I ain't a coward."

My mouth curved. "So, you're here just to prove a point?"

"Maybe." His teeth gleamed in a grin, his face so impossibly beautiful I had trouble taking it in sometimes. He extended his hand to me in a silent gesture of apology. "We cool?"

I nodded, our fingers instinctively intertwined. I could never be mad at him for long. Occasionally, we had heated arguments and disagreements, but we always found our way back to each other. In the end, that's all that mattered.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading! Leave kudos if you're enjoying so far, and please leave a comment, honest feedback is appreciated! Seriously, reviews make a writers day and let me know that people are actually reading! I LOVE you guys, thank you so much for reading. Follow Anboringday on tumblr if you wanna talk, thank you!


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Another update! Please enjoy!

Overjoyed that finals were over, I practically danced out of my classroom. I'm free! I skipped through the sunny courtyard filled with the chatter of passing students and found my best friend patiently waiting for me by the curb. A great beam of summer sunlight dappled over the city—over _him_ —enriching the gold hues in his eyes and casting a beautiful glow to his brown skin. He wore navy blue fitted joggers with pale stripes, pristine white sneakers, and an all-white t-shirt that complimented his broad chest, the short sleeves put his rippling biceps on proud display for the world to see.

I loved how effortlessly attractive he made streetwear look. His gaze shifted to me and my skin tingled in response. It hadn't been but a few seconds since I laid eyes on him, and I was already aching for his touch.

Clutching a pink velvet jewelry box behind my back, I was a bundle of nerves as I approached him. Today was a special day. Not only were my finals over, but I had planned to surprise Franklin with a handcrafted friendship bracelet. I've been working on it for weeks in secret. It wasn't very pleasing to the eye considering I was still learning the ropes. In fact, it was far from perfect, filled with unsightly holes and tears. I thought about giving up and throwing the horribly knotted thing in the trash a few times, but I had worked so hard on making it, I could never bring myself to do it.

I've heard people say it's the thought that counts, not the quality of the gift. Hopefully Franklin had the same mindset, or else this could go very badly…

"H-hi," I greeted somewhat awkwardly. We've been friends for so long and still, there were moments where I was tongue-tied around him.

He studied me for a moment, seeming to notice my unease. "Wassup, girl? You good?"

"I-I'm fine." Clearing my throat, it took me three full seconds to muster the courage to reveal my gift. "Here. I-I made this. It's, um…it's a gift. For you."

"Aw, for real? You made me somethin'?" His eyes softened for only a moment, then he shot me an accusing glare. "You ain't fucking with me, right? Did Jimmy put you up to this?"

"No, no, it's not a prank." _Crap._ I should've known he'd get defensive. He was raised in an underprivileged home where gifts were rarely exchanged, and thoughtful gestures were few and far in between. An uncomfortable pang struck my heart. He wasn't the type of man that inspired sympathy, but I felt sorry for him anyway.

Determined to ease his doubts, I took his hand in mine and spoke sincerely. "These past few weeks have been hard for the both of us, physically and mentally. You spent every waking moment of your day helping me study, helping me with my mental breakdowns, helping me be a better person. You believed in me when I stopped believing in myself."

He chuckled sheepishly, the deeply male, velvety sound that escaped him caused every woman lingering nearby to turn their heads and stare. "Trace…"

"Frank." I beamed, feeling remarkably lucky to have such a reliable and supportive companion in my life. He was my best friend. My rock. He kept me stable and grounded. I'd be lost without him. "Words can't describe how much you mean to me, so I made you this instead." I handed him the jewelry box. "Open it."

Carefully, Franklin undid the red ribbon tied around it and thumbed open the lid. He examined the colorfully beaded bracelet in all its crappy woven glory, the corner of his sensual mouth lifted in a teasing, half smile. "Shit, girl, at first I thought you were bullshitting when you said you made this yourself. Now that I see it, I believe you."

I frowned. "You hate it."

"Nah, I…" His gaze abruptly lifted over my shoulder, which snagged my attention too. There was a slender, brown-eyed brunette with full red lips passing by. She walked arm in arm with a well-dressed man in a sky-blue shirt and black tie. They were laughing together, eyes shining with unbridled adoration for one another. They were a cute couple—married—their gold wedding bands glistened in the sunlight.

For some reason, Franklin couldn't keep his eyes off the svelte brunette. He watched her with the strangest, most unreadable expression, his grasp on my hand tightened painfully.

"Frank?" I tried to regain his attention, but he ignored me and kept staring. Concerned and terribly confused, I clutched his shoulders and shook him. " _Hey!_ What the hell's the matter with you?"

He flinched as if snapping out of a trance, his gaze lowered to me. "My bad. Uh, what were we doin' again?"

My concern quickly melted into seething anger and icy detachment. "Forget it." I snatched my gift from his hand and turned for the car.

Franklin took the wheel and winced, immediately lowering the visor to block out the sun's glaring rays. "Man, I hate the summer."

"Apparently, you hate heartfelt gifts too." I shoved the stupid box into my backpack and set it aside on the floor of the car. What a waste of time. "Frank, is there anything you _don't_ hate?"

He started the ignition. "I don't hate you, Trace."

"Really?" I rolled my eyes. "Coulda fooled me."

We pulled off from the campus, and he remained silent the entire drive home. He didn't utter a single word. He didn't even look at me. If he did, he would've known I was fuming, my face flushed, red hot with fury and embarrassment. Franklin was a hard man in a lot of ways, but I thought he'd at least have the common decency to show some sort of appreciation for a gift. A simple 'thank you' would've been better than dismissing me entirely. As if he didn't care at all. As if the bracelet, which took me weeks to craft by hand, was beneath him and unworthy of his time.

There was an important lesson to be learned here: never, _ever_ give Franklin anything of sentimental value. In fact, I'll never give him anything again. That'll save me from lots of potential heartache and humiliating rejection in the future.

His apathetic attitude was upsetting, and to add insult to injury, the way he was staring at that chick…what was it about her that he found so appealing? She was married for Christ's sake. _God_ , I could kill him. I seriously thought about it.

He parked the car in the driveway. "You got therapy in an hour, right?"

I nodded. "Yep. I'll drive myself. Thanks."

"But you don't got a whip, girl. Big-J never brought yours back."

"Then I'll catch a cab." I slammed the passenger door closed on my way out. Needing the distance, I fled into the house and dropped my backpack on the couch, then turned into the kitchen to heat up some much-needed comfort food. The chocolate fudge brownie I bought from Bean Machine sounded nice. Today was _my_ day to celebrate. After many long, sleepless nights of studying a bunch of useless crap I'll inevitably forget in the next few days now that finals were over, I had every right to indulge in guilty pleasures.

I warmed the delicious brownie in the microwave and topped it with a scoop of vanilla ice cream. _Yum._ The rich taste was so therapeutic. And it was a welcome distraction from stressing over my ungrateful best friend.

While I was indulging myself in sweet chocolate goodness, Franklin slid up behind me. He pushed his hands into my front jean pockets and pressed his body against me. Tucked closely within his embrace, I melted into him, my body growing lax as his cheek nuzzled mine. The tremendous yearning I felt for him throughout the course of our friendship returned in full force. God, he smelled so good. My brain cells sizzled whenever his tantalizing scent enveloped me.

"You mad at me?" His voice was soft, his breath warm on my neck.

I swallowed deeply, hyperaware of every slight movement he made. His body was hard, yet amazingly comfortable against mine. He was so powerfully male, his closeness ignited the blood in my veins. "Mad is putting it lightly." It took every bit of willpower I could muster to shift from his arms. "I tried to do something nice for you and you shrugged it off like it was nothing."

"This is 'bout that bracelet, isn't it?" He opened his palm to me. "Give it to me."

"No," I said with a sneer. I was pissed off, disappointed, and I wanted him to feel the same way. I wanted a fight. "It's reserved for friends only. You're not my friend. You're an insensitive prick."

He frowned. "A'ight, that's fair. I deserved that."

"You did." I glanced at the digital clock on the counter and sighed. "Screw therapy. I'm not in the mood for that crap today."

"What 'bout yo' meds? Got enough to hold you over until it's time for a refill?"

"Sure. I haven't been taking them anyway."

His brows furrowed. "Why not?"

I hesitated to answer. I wasn't sure how he'd take the truth. Being honest and open with Franklin was usually easy, until today.

"Trace," he insisted, his gaze burning a hole into me. "Tell me."

"It's because of you," I admitted. "I don't need antidepressants or mood stabilizers when you're around. And considering you're around all the time now…" A distressing thought entered my mind and I whimpered, my eyes watering. "But once Mom and Dad come back, y-you'll be gone. Free from the burden of babysitting me day in and day out. Is that why you were being such a dick earlier? Are you tired of being here?"

"Nah. It had nothin' to do with that. You're jumping to conclusions, girl." He scrubbed a hand over his face and exhaled harshly. "Listen, yo' finals are over and done with, we finna be out celebrating and having a good ass time. Not fighting with one another." His fingers linking with mine, he pleaded softly, "Don't let me fuck this up, Trace. Just…tell me what I gotta do, a'ight? And gimme some room to make mistakes along the way. I'm still learning how to be the man you need—how to be good for you."

"I remember you saying something like that about a month or two ago," I gave him a brittle smile. "You're a slow learner."

"Luckily for me, figuring you out ain't a race." He captured my chin, forcing me to look at him. "You finna be okay?"

"I think so." His words were somewhat reassuring. He was trying to make amends for his enormous screw up earlier, and I had to give him credit for that. However, I needed to understand why and how things went wrong in the first place. "That woman you were staring at on campus—who was she?"

He grew silent and unnaturally still. His expression smoothed into an emotionless mask of stone. It was an easy, habitual act he performed often to keep others from getting too close. To protect himself. His survival instincts were kicking in and I wasn't sure if I had the energy to contend with it. Most of the time, it was a losing battle.

"Never mind." I sniffed, turning away.

" _Don't._ " The icy authority in his tone froze me in place. Then, with indefinite gentleness, he said, "Don't run. Come back to me."

I gravitated to him once again. He had a hold over me; it was like an intangible rope that pushed me away and pulled me in whenever he willed it. A single smoldering look and a few soft-spoken words was all it took to rekindle my burning desire for him. He was impossible to resist, so effing hot that the sight of his ruggedly handsome face was both amazing and unbearable to take in at times.

"That girl we saw on campus...she's my ex," he confessed with some difficulty. 

"Oh." The blood drained from my face.

"We grew up together," he continued. "Started dating in high school. Shit didn't work out." 

It took a moment for the news to sink in. A wave of nausea struck me. I didn't know what to do or say. Like an idiot, I assumed Franklin had little to no experience with committed relationships. With a captivating face and body like his, I should've known better.

I carefully avoided his eyes, my gaze dropped to our feet. I couldn't stand the intimate way he was looking at me, especially after the weird head trip he took seeing his ex.

His gaze searched my tear-streaked face and he cursed inwardly. Scooping me into his arms like a bride, he whisked me over the couch. He dropped me on my butt, then sat next to me. "Trace, let me in. What's on yo' mind?"

"Why am I hearing about your ex _now?_ We're best friends. You know everything about me, but I hardly know anything about you." I swallowed past the lump in my throat. "There shouldn't be any secrets between us."

"Why even mention her? She ain't worth the time or energy. Honestly, I forgot she existed until I saw her ass today."

"Funny you say that because you seemed to be very interested in her ass. You couldn't take your eyes off it." I shook my head. "She's married, you know."

"To a doctor or lawyer, or whatever the fuck he is. She called me a day before the wedding, and I wished her the best. Haven't talked to her since." His broad shoulders moved in a shrug. "It is what it is. Sometimes things don't turn out the way you want them to. The same goes for you and the frat boy. You tried, shit went sideways, you move on. Life don't stop for nobody."

Hopefully he didn't have that same nonchalant attitude when it came to our relationship. I wanted to be important to him. Someone he couldn't live without. But maybe it was silly and naïve to think such things. He was a man who could fend for himself and found contentment in his own company. Franklin needed no one.

In a lot of ways, we were opposites. It wasn't a comforting realization.

He retrieved my backpack from the other end of the couch and ruffled through it. I didn't stop him. I was tired of fighting. He pulled out the jewelry box and snapped it open, a genuine smile brightened his face.

My fingers twisted in my lap. "Do you like it?"

He unfastened his outrageously expensive watch and replaced it with my friendship bracelet. "First bracelet you ever made, right? Ain't too bad." He planted an appreciative kiss on my forehead. "You did good, girl."

I giggled, wiping the tears from my eyes, his affection broke the tension between us. "Come on, I'll show you mine." I took his hand and shot up from the cushions. Dragging him along with me, I raced up the stairs and swerved into my room. Filled with a sudden burst of energy, I swiped the other bracelet I made from the nightstand and presented it to him. "See? It matches! Now the whole world will know we're the bestest friends ever!"

His lips twitched with amusement. "You're cute, Trace. You know that?"

My cheeks heated. "N-no I'm not."

"You are." He clasped my wrist, his thumb caressing the back of my hand as he slipped the matching bracelet over my fingers. It was a deeply intimate act, and it spurred me to reach out to him, my hand cupped his cheek. Closing his eyes, he nuzzled his face into my palm, relishing my touch. My heart swelled, pounding against my chest. It was the sweetest, most vulnerable thing I've ever witnessed him do. Letting down his defenses wasn't easy, and I loved him fiercely for it.

We had our fair share of problems, but the physical intimacy he showed me was consoling and loving enough to lay all my doubts to rest. He could soothe my troubled soul and shred my doubts with a single delicate touch.

"For what it's worth," I mumbled, "I'm sorry things didn't work between you and your ex."

"Nah. Don't be." His arms came around my waist and drew me closer until our foreheads touched. "I found somethin'— _someone_ better."

My pulse kicked, a burst of uncontrollable need erupted inside me. His lips were but an inch away from mine, full and so remarkably tempting. He opened his eyes, his gaze dark and searingly intense.

"Trace." His deep voice was mesmerizing, filled with tender passion and a touch of concern. As if I might blow away, his grasp on my waist intensified, strong and firm, pinning me against him. "I don't wanna fuck this up. Tell me what to do. Tell me what you want."

Hot and trembling with longing, I managed to whisper, "To…to be your friend. I want…your friendship."

His pinky curled around mine. "You don't want no secrets between us. Show me you mean it." His warm breath mingling with mine, it'd only take one slight tilt of my head and I could taste him. I fantasied about it every waking moment of my life since I met him.

One tiny movement. It would be so easy.

Desperate to cross the narrow, intangible chasm that separated us, I stood on the tip of my toes, my lips brushed…his chin.

His tongue traced the shell of my ear. "You want me to kiss you, Trace?"

I shivered, my knees weakening. I clutched his powerful shoulders to keep myself afloat.

"Tell me. Say somethin', baby."

His lips nibbled on my earlobe, slowly making a hot, sensuous trail of kisses down my neck. He sucked on my skin and pleasure surged through me.

" _Oh…_ " I sighed, arching my head to give him better access. He felt so good…

My fingers slid through his hair, my muscles strained toward him, aching to hasten the connection I've been dying to feel between us for so long. Too long. I wanted his lips against mine, to drown in the sensation of its softness.

I tried to pull away, to kiss him, but his hand captured my throat with gentle strength—just enough force to still me. He froze. "You want me to stop?"

" _No_." The words slipped from my lips shamelessly. _More._ I needed more. I needed _him_. _I've waited long enough!_

Abruptly, he jerked away from me. I stood there, flushed and panting, hot and willing. Then I realized why he withdrew so quickly.

Someone was behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you guys enjoyed! I can't believe how far this fic has come, it was only supposed to be a one-shot at first lol. There's only one more chapter left! Leave a comment and kudos please, honest feedback is greatly appreciated! Thank you guys so much for your support!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The final chapter! Enjoy!

Mortified by the sudden invasion of our privacy, I recoiled to the opposite end of the room, away from Franklin.

Mom’s shocked, wide-eyed stare bounced between us. I shifted uneasily from one foot to another, the tension crackling in the air was almost unbearable.

Her gaze drilled into Franklin, the astonished look on her face hardened into a scowl. “How _dare_ you? My husband asked you to watch after our daughter, not take advantage of her. He trusted you!”

Franklin tensed, his lips pressed into a fine line. For some reason, he chose not to defend himself from Mom’s ridiculous accusations. So I stepped in, “Mom—”

She immediately cut me off, grabbing me by the arm with bruising force. I flinched. She dragged me into the hall, shooting Franklin a savage glare on our way out of my room.

Mom examined me from head to toe, trembling, her eyes wet and on the verge of angry tears. “Are you okay? Did he hurt you? When your father finds out about this, he’ll wish he was dead.”

“Seriously?” The way she stared at me, with overwhelming concern and horror, was infuriating. She looked at me like I was a helpless little girl in need of saving. Like I was a fucking victim. I swatted her hand away. “Mom, you’re acting crazy. You can’t just barge into my life after being absent for months and start making accusations. It’s not fair!”

“You told me you and him were just friends. Friends do not do—whatever I just saw you two doing!” Hands on her hips, she glared at me bitterly. “Why do you insist on keeping secrets from me and your father? We talked about this—”

Dad appeared at my side, the domineering sight of him made my blood run cold. He gave me a quick peck on the cheek. “Hey, Princess. Everything alright?”

 _He didn’t know._ Thank God. Before Mom could open her mouth and spill the beans, I reassured him with the widest smile ever. “Everything is fine, Daddy. Right, Mom?” I grabbed her wrist and squeezed.

She winced and laughed somewhat awkwardly. “Yep. Everything is perfectly fine. Me and Tracey are just catching up on things.” She patted Dad’s shoulder. “It’s nothing to concern yourself with, honey.”

“It’s been a while, I think we all have some catching up to do,” Dad smiled. “How’s college been treating ya, Tracey? You and Frank getting along well? Has he been dropping you off at school on time? Most professors don’t tolerate lateness—the uppity cunts. Did you pass history?” He gave me the once-over. “You look pale. Are you sick, sweetie? Have you been eating? Frank does feed you, right?”

The barrage of intrusive questions left me dazed. “Dad…I’m an adult. I can feed myself.”

“If I find out my boy hasn’t been doing his job, I’ll kick his ass.” My heart skipped a beat. Although my father had a harmless, joking grin on his face, his voice bore a hint of malice. Like always, it only took but a minute of interaction between us before he inevitably mentioned taking out his violent tendencies on something or someone. Typical Dad.

Franklin emerged from my room. “I’d hold off on that ass whooping, man. Tracey passed her midterms, scored A’s on all her essays and assignments, and dependin’ on the grades of her finals, she might just make the Dean’s List.” A smug smile crossed his face. “I must be doin’ somethin’ right.”

“Really?” Dad’s brows rose. “She aced her music tests too?”

“I did,” I said. “With Franklin’s help. Turns out he’s a natural at reading sheet music.”

“My daughter passing with honors? Fuckin’ A!” Dad threw his arms around me in an energetic hug. “I knew you could do it, sweetie.” The glow of his proud, genuine smile warmed the space. A giggle escaped me. My father was rarely happy, but when he was, it’s contagious. After a long moment, he broke the hug and turned his attention to Franklin. “And the house is in the same condition I left it in. Nice going. I’m proud of you, kid. Come on, I gotta talk to you about something.”

He slung an arm over Franklin’s shoulder and steered him down the steps. Once they were out of earshot, I clasped Mom’s arm. “Don’t tell Dad. Promise me you won’t. It’ll ruin everything.”

Mom sighed. “I wanted better for you, Tracey. What happened to Chad Dillington? He seemed like a good boy.”

“No, Mom, Chad is a lying asshole. He isn’t good at all—”

Her expression turned cold and unyielding. “Neither is Franklin.”

Irritated by her stubbornness and unwarranted animosity toward my best friend, I stomped my foot against the floor in a fit. “Stop being so effing judgmental. You don’t know him like I do. You don’t know anything.”

“ _Don’t_ take that tone with me, young lady,” she admonished. “I know enough. Have you ever wondered why him, and your father get along so well? They’re two peas in a pod. Wolves in sheep’s clothing. As much as I love your father, I know how dangerous he can be. We both know.”

I shrugged. “Why are you speaking in riddles? If you have something to say, just say it.”

“Don’t make the same mistakes I did when I was your age, Tracey.”

What the hell did that even mean? Her meddling and blind judgements grated on my last nerve. “I’m not you, Mom. And Franklin isn’t anything like Dad. Not once has he ever put me in danger. He never made me feel unwanted. He never abandoned me when I needed him most.”

She grimaced. “Tracey—”

“While you and Dad dropped off the face of the planet for months, Franklin was here for me and Jimmy. You weren’t.” My eyes stung, and a hot tear rolled down my cheek. “I went through the entire first semester of college without the support of my parents. You should’ve been here.” I stabbed a finger at her, “ _But you weren’t._ How could you stand there and judge the only person who’s been there for me—supported me unconditionally day after day while you’ve done nothing but ignore me?”

Mom grew as still as a rock, her face pale and lips fumbling for words like a fish out of water. She looked as wounded as I felt. I couldn’t stand it. It was so easy for her to berate and criticize others, but she wasn’t perfect either. She was far from it.

I turned away, skipping down the steps and speeding through the front door. I had to get away from my crazy-assed family as quickly as possible. Reasoning with Mom was nothing but a headache. Hopefully she had the decency not to spill my secret to Dad and ruin my life in the process. I was confident that she’d stay quiet. My mother was overbearing and tended to stick her nose where it didn’t belong, but she wasn’t cruel.

My moron brother had the keys to my car, so driving to Bean Machine for a sugar fix was out of the question. I circled around the block in the blazing summer heat and bought a half-dozen candy bars from a local 24/7 convenience store. Taking shelter under the shade of a nearby palm tree, I tore open a bar and bit off a mouthful.

I shuddered when my cell phone vibrated against me. I grabbed it from the back pocket of my shorts and glanced at the screen. There was a text from Franklin. **_Where are you?_**

I replied; **_Outside 24/7, around the corner from the house._**

I had devoured most of my snacks when Franklin found me. My face must have betrayed my lingering agitation because something lured him to offer his hand. And I lunged for it, squeezing, once again using him as a physical outlet to relieve my stress.

His gaze dropped to the crumpled-up candy wrappers at my feet. “Damn. Going the extra mile to satisfy that sweet tooth of yours today, huh?”

“My family is going to drive me nuts,” I slurred, my mouth full of candy. “I can’t put up with this crap forever. I’ll end up in a frickin’ loony bin.”

He chuckled and lifted a palm to his lips, licking away a smudge of chocolate I unconsciously left behind on his skin. It was a brutally hot afternoon, and the working of his tongue made me even hotter.

Considering the severity of the situation we were in, his temperate, laid-back demeanor was remarkable. Insane even. He seemed totally unbothered, not a single care in the world. His indifference deepened my worries by tenfold.

Was he unaware that my father was a violent psychopath? A ticking time bomb ready to blow at the slightest inconvenience? Or was he simply underestimating him?

Franklin eyed me closely and frowned. He was perceptive and knew me well enough to tell when I was troubled just by looking at me. “Relax. It ain’t the end of the world.”

“What makes you so sure?” I paced the sidewalk, my voice slightly trembling. “Mom could tell Dad our secret at any given moment. Then we’re both screwed.”

He captured my wrist and I pivoted to face him. “This thing we got goin’ on”—he gestured the air between us—”it ain’t gotta be a secret. Not unless you want it to.”

His gaze was steady and smoldering as he stared into mine, the intensity of his striking eyes took my breath away. Combined with my mounting stress, and the sun’s ruthless heat beating down on me, my legs momentarily gave out. Losing my footing, I swayed.

He caught me in his arms before I hit the pavement. His grip firm on my waist, he helped me regain my balance. A couple people across the street stared. _Crap_. I was causing a scene. Franklin was smokin’ hot. Being around someone so damn handsome was seriously detrimental to my health.

His gaze searched my face. “Trace? You good?” His words came out fast. He sounded anxious.

I assured him with a nod and wiped the sweat from my forehead.

“You look faint,” he pointed out. “It’s baking out here, girl. We need to get you outta this heat. Lemme take you home—”

“God, no, that’s the last place I wanna be right now.” I tossed aside my last candy bar. Chocolate wasn’t doing me any good, I needed real food. “Let’s find somewhere to stuff our faces.”

***

“ _Mmm,_ ” I moaned with delight as an eruption of flavor hit my tongue. My order of fluffy, syrupy pancakes was like perfection on a plate. _Wow._ Casey’s diner turned out to be well worth the drive. Most of the tabletops were scratched with gum stuck to the bottom, and the place was busier than I was comfortable with, customers were constantly sliding in and out, but at least it was air-conditioned. Thank God.

That, and the food was ridiculously delicious.

Franklin took a sip of his chocolate milkshake. Apparently, he had a bit of a sweet tooth too. “How’s the pancakes?” he asked.

“So good it should be illegal. You have amazing taste, Frank. Color me impressed.”

“This is just the beginning. There’s a lot more I can show you, girl.”

I smiled. “Like what?”

His voice lowered, deep and intimate. “Things that are more…impressive than food.” He flashed me a devilish smirk so dreamy and sexy, it could lure me into the fiery pits of hell itself with ease.

I shifted restlessly within my booth seat and almost choked on my pancakes. _Jesus_. The torture of wanting him grew more severe with every passing moment and I could hardly stand it. And I wasn’t alone. I saw how effortlessly he attracted women in public—how they’d stop whatever they were doing and stare. And he was rich, which made even old, wrinkly dudes that smell like musty mothballs attractive.

Franklin was in a whole different league in comparison to every other man I’ve met in Los Santos. He took command of whatever space he entered with a fluidly arrogant stride, each eye-catching, purposeful step conveying he had no equal. Everywhere we went, he caused a disturbance.

It was hard not to think about all the women who’ve thrown themselves at him throughout his life. It must have been dozens. Maybe more—all of them probably more attractive than me. Was I even his type? His ex and I looked nothing alike. The negative thoughts did wonders for shredding my self-esteem and making me physically sick with jealousy.

I tried my best to focus on my pancakes and nothing else. If I kept thinking about Franklin, I’d drive myself crazy. I had enough to worry about. My infatuation with him was the reason we were in this mess in the first place. Dad was a very real threat, and if something happened to Frank because of me…

I’d never forgive myself.

Now that Dad was at the forefront of my mind, I asked, “What did you and Dad talk about earlier?”

Franklin stared through the smudged window at the parking lot. “Business shit.”

Unsatisfied with his clipped answer, I shot him a look. “C’mon, are you seriously not gonna give me the details? Let me guess, Dad told you not to tell me?”

“Good guess.” He fiddled with the straw of his milkshake. “Yo’ pops values his privacy.”

“But he makes an exception for you. He lets everyone else into his personal life but his family—the people he claims to care about most, he leaves in the dark.” Losing my appetite, I sighed and sunk into my seat. “I don’t get it.”

He glanced at me and arched a brow. “You really wanna know what yo’ pops said?”

A spike of adrenaline rushed through me. My body perked up at the proposition. “You’ll tell me?

“Fo’ sho’. If it makes you happy. If you promise to stop pouting…”

“I promise!”

As if holding onto some wonderful secret the rest of the world couldn’t know, he rounded the table and slid into the booth next to me. His lips at my ear, he whispered, “Mike is writin’ the script for a new movie, an action-thriller _loosely_ based on his crazy-ass life—”

“Holy shit!” I screamed, almost jumping out of my seat. Thankfully there were so many voices babbling around us, it drowned out my yelling, so I didn’t cause a scene. “Seriously? Oh my God, oh my God! Am I gonna be in it? I always wanted to be an actor! When do we start shooting? Wait, I’ll need a personal trainer and a nutritionist first—”

Grinning, he pressed a finger to my lips. “Relax, Trace. The script ain’t even done yet.”

Giddy with excitement, I threw my arms around his shoulders and hugged him the tightest I could. “I’m gonna be in a movie! I’m gonna be in a movie! Do you wanna be in it too? I’ll vouch for you.”

His returning embrace was just as passionate. “Nah, girl. I’m good. Acting ain’t an interest of mine.” Smile fading, he murmured, “Mike finna kill my ass long before that movie hits the theaters anyway.” 

My hot-blooded enthusiasm fizzled out into a cool chill. My worries returning and flooding my mind in full-force, I scooted to the opposite end of the booth. “I’m sorry, Frank. This is all my fault. I ruined everything.”

“Nah, you ain’t at fault here. You didn’t do anythin’ wrong. I’m the one who came onto you.” His jaw tightening, he leaned his elbow on the table and rubbed at his temple as if fighting off a headache. “ _I_ fucked up. Not you.”

My stomach hardened. He looked as conflicted and miserable as I felt. It scared me. “Do…do you regret it? What we did?”

Detached and seemingly lost in thought, he didn’t answer. Maybe he didn’t hear me, my voice weak and barely audible. I tugged on his sleeve for his attention. “Frank?”

“Trace, it don't matter how I feel,” he bit out. “I lost my head, I wasn’t thinkin’ straight, a’ight? It won’t happen again.”

My heart stuttered. “No. That isn’t what I want.”

He twisted at the waist to face me, his gaze hot and intense. “What do you want, then? Say somethin’, girl. _Speak._ I can’t read yo’ fucking mind—”

“You!” I blurted, and then softly, nervously I added, “I-I want you.”

Franklin struggled visibly for words, his eyes widening. My confession made him squirm and it was agonizing to watch. Like a knife jabbed through my heart, the sting of imminent rejection slowly sunk in. I was an idiot to believe this would end any other way. Happiness was fleeting in my life. Good things never lasted long. It was only a matter of time before something sprung up and ruined everything—

One moment I was brooding in the corner, and the next I was tugged across his lap, his mouth sealed over mine. I let out a little yelp against his lips from the sheer surprise of it all. The mind-blowing fierceness of his kiss was as raw and unapologetic as it was seductive. I was trembling and breathless, the invisible threads that bound us together tightening. He kissed me as if he was starving for the taste, as if he _had_ to, as if he’d go crazy if he didn’t.

_It was actually happening…after so long…_

My eyelids fluttered closed, and on a sigh, I gave into the pleasure he offered. I did what I wanted since the first time I laid eyes on him. My hands plunged into his hair and I kissed him back. His tongue brushed over mine, tasting me in slow, sensual strokes.

His breath hissed out when I sucked on his bottom lip. He placed a palm at the small of my back, his fingers splayed to press me against him. My hands slid down his shoulders to his rippling arms that I thoroughly enjoyed checking out. Caressing them was double the fun. Through the layer of clothing between us, his biceps were like stone, and his stomach a slab of hard-worked muscle against my own.

His body was godly, and so was the skilled, masterful massage of his soft lips that had me reeling in his arms, greedy and eager for more.

Growling low and deep in his throat, his mouth drifted upward. He kissed my cheek, my eyelids, my forehead, then back down to my chin, his lips grazed along my jawline…

It took me a moment to compose myself. We were in a diner full of people and we were making out with reckless abandon. We couldn’t keep our hands off one another. Honestly, I loved every second of his shameless affection, but we were starting to gain a mixture of hostile and appalled glares from other customers. Parents especially.

Apparently, we overstayed our welcome.

I beckoned the waiter over with the wave of my hand. When he came with our bill, Franklin and I didn’t pull apart. His forehead touching mine, our connection remained madly intense as he dug his wallet out of his pocket and handed over his credit card. 

***

As I walked the evening streets of Los Santos alongside Franklin, a bubbly sensation struck my heart. Our fingers intertwined, we drifted about in the night’s cool, comforting breeze with no destination in mind. We were simply enjoying one another’s company. Occasionally his stride would come to a halt, and he’d gather me into his embrace, showering my cheeks with light kisses. Each time I’d smile so wide my face would hurt.

Being that he was a hard man of little words, I assumed it was his way of reaffirming his feelings for me. And it worked. His loving touch calmed my nerves and nipped most of my doubts in the bud.

But there was one insecurity that I couldn’t seem to get over. That I couldn’t stop thinking about. It had nothing to do with Dad this time. Someone else was the culprit of my uncertainty, and until we talked about _her_ , I’d never move past it.

“Frank,” I squeezed his hand softly. “I need to speak to you about something.”

“’Bout yo’ pops?” he asked.

“Jeez, do I nag you about him _that_ much?”

“Only ‘bout ten times a day. Five if I’m lucky.”

“Whatever.” Giggling, I playfully swatted his shoulder.

Franklin smiled, so stunningly gorgeous I had to catch myself from falling at his feet. He guided me to a nearby bench outside a vinyl record shop. Softly played music drifted from the brightly illuminated storefront windows. We sat down together, our knees brushing.

I briefly took my eyes off Franklin to search our surroundings. We were on a small, underpopulated side street with barely any traffic. The shops didn’t seem to get much business. Without the screeching tires of bad drivers and packed crowds, Los Santos seemed like a decent place to live. Quiet and peaceful.

“There was somethin’ you wanted to talk ‘bout?” Franklin’s gaze found mine, steady and direct. “I’m listenin’.”

“Oh, right.” After a moment of mustering my courage, I spit it out. “How many relationships have you been in? Romantically, I mean.”

“One.”

“Just one? Are you telling me you’ve been alone all this time?”

“Depends on what you mean by ‘alone’. There were others, but nothin’ serious.”

“Like you went on lots of dates?”

Franklin shrugged. “Sort of.”

“Sort of?” I stared at him, confused. “Isn’t dating someone the same as being in a relationship with them?”

He snorted. “Nah. There’s an obvious difference.”

My line of questioning amused him, and it rubbed me the wrong way. “Don’t laugh.” I frowned. “I’m being serious.”

His expression stalled and grew somber. “You can date anybody but committin’ to them is a whole different story. For example, the connection we got is more than just physical. I rather be with you than anyone else. Inside and outside the bedroom.”

I swallowed deeply, my heartbeat skyrocketing. Unable to restrain myself from the comfort of his warmth, my arms curled around his waist. “And I rather be with you. But how do you know when the time is right to take the next step? To be exclusive? Things didn’t work out between you and your ex. How do you know our relationship won’t crash and burn the same way?”

“No,” he said between clenched teeth. “You and Tanisha are two different people, a’ight? Don’t compare yourself to her.”

“I can’t help it. Women practically fall at your feet, but you chose me.” I could feel his body tense beneath my palms. Afraid of accidentally pushing him away, my grasp strengthened. “I’m scared to lose you. I want our relationship to mean more than the others.”

“It does. More than you know.” He sighed, the tension in his shoulders loosened. “When I ain’t with you, I can’t sit still. I can’t concentrate. I can’t get shit done. I can’t get you outta my head. Nothin’ in the world feels right, like I’m fiendin’ for somethin’ except it ain’t drugs. It’s like I’m goin’ through withdrawals or some shit…” He shuddered, then gave a taut laugh. “That’s how I knew I had to have you, girl—that I needed you. The way you make me feel, it…hurts.”

I pecked his cheek. “I hope that’s a good thing.”

“Better than good.” He pressed a soft kiss to my lips. “It’s great enough for me to be willin’ to do whatever makes you happy—exclusivity included.”

 _Exclusivity_ …

I liked the sound of that. Because sharing him was _out_ of the question. I had to have him all to myself, or not at all.

I cupped his face in my hands. “Is there anything you wanna talk about?”

He grabbed me by the hips and drew me into his lap. The way he handled me, with gentleness and an edge of aggression—I loved it. He didn’t care who was watching. The world knew I was his, and his alone.

“There ain’t no short supply of shit we need to talk ‘bout, Trace,” he said. “There’s a lot on my mind, to the small shit we finna gloss over, to the big, glaring fuckin’ problems like—”

“My dad,” I completed his sentence dryly. “My whole family is a problem, honestly.”

“They ain’t so bad. I mean, yo’ pops can be a real angry, overprotective motherfucker when it comes to you, but he ain’t irrational. He can see reason.”

Running my shaky fingers through my hair, I frowned. If only his confidence was contagious. “My crazy-assed family, my bad spending habits, not to mention my fragile frickin’ mental state…God, I’m so high-maintenance…”

“You’re worth it.” His nose nuzzled mine. “It won’t be easy, but we can work. Only if you want us to—”

“I’ve always wanted you, Frank.” The words spilled from my mouth before I could catch myself. It was such a relief to finally get it out.

His brows rose, then his eyes softened. “You had me from the beginning. I’ve always been yours, Trace.”

My chest ached. He could say such sweet things. Amazingly sweet things. “Why did you help me try and win Chad? You could’ve stopped me. All you had to do was tell me how you felt.”

“You were really into the dude at the time, so I figured, shit, if he made you happy, then…I could live with that.” A muscle ticking in his jaw, his gaze dropped to the ground. “It’s all I ever wanted, you feel me? For you to be happy. You were always so sad, baby. Always disappointed.”

He knew the difference between my fake smiles and the real ones not long after meeting me. His perceptiveness was a gift I was thankful for. I snuggled against him. “I thought you were out of my league.”

His brows shot up. “ _Me?_ Out of _your_ league?”

“That’s why I went for Chad,” I continued. “Regardless of all his athletic achievements, he’s a student still getting his life together. Living off his parent’s money. And you…you’re so well put together. You’re a self-made millionaire. Level-headed and calm and mature. Thoughtful. Smart. Everything I’m not.”

“Ay, stop that. You’ll fuck up yo’ self-esteem talkin’ that type of shit. Trust me, I’ve been there. I know from personal experience that it’s an ugly ass place to be, and shit won’t get better until you learn how to be nice to yourself.” He tipped up my chin, forcing me to look at him. “You’re perfect for me, a’ight? And I’ll tell you that every damn day until you believe it.”

The wave of unbridled joy that swept over me was insanely powerful. I felt like dancing. I felt like hugging every single stranger that passed by on the street. Instead, I settled with planting a quick kiss on the tip of Franklin’s nose, and my efforts were rewarded with the most adorable chuckle. It was so very much at odds with his strength and masculinity. The sound of his genuine happiness was like music to my ears, and it was long overdue.

It was still hard to believe he was mine. That I wasn’t dreaming. That this was _actually_ happening. “So, like, are you my boyfriend now?”

“Trace…” Smothering a laugh, he facepalmed. “Girl, we’ve been talkin’ ‘bout our relationship for the last”—he glanced at his watch—“thirty minutes. Did you hear a single damn thing I said? Or did it all go through one ear and out the other?”

Flustered, I sputtered, “Yeah, b-but I-I had to ask. Just to make sure we’re…we’re on the same page and—”

“ _Yes_ ,” he stated. “The answer to yo’ question is yes.”

Franklin fisted my hair and tipped my head back for a kiss. His lips met mine with a slow, sweet, and delicate softness. The passionate moment we shared served as a tender confirmation of our crazy, overly complicated, hot, and undeniable connection we couldn’t live without. I smiled into the kiss, feeling much better now that we discussed our relationship and where we stood as a couple.

***

Because the thought of going home to my parents left a terrible taste in my mouth, I settled for a night of relaxation in Franklin’s lush, gorgeously steep, and beautifully lit backyard. Unwinding in a lounge chair by the sparkling pool with Chop laying across my chest, the amazing sight of the city’s shimmering skyline was all mine to enjoy. From the calm, golden glow of apartment windows to the wildly flashing neon lights of emergency vehicles…God, Los Santos was chaotically fantastic from up here.

A view like this had to cost a freaking fortune. His home was the peak of luxury in every way, shape, and form.

Franklin lowered onto the lounge chair next to me, holding a glass of champagne in his hand. “Y’all look comfortable.”

“We are.” I stroked Chop’s furry back and he snuggled closer to me. So cute. “I think your dog likes me.”

“No doubt. Little Homie would sooner bite somebody in the ass than cuddle.”

“Chop would never bite me in the ass. He loves me too much.” I scratched under his chin. He responded by licking my face. “See? He’s a good doggie.”

“Don’t baby his ass too much, Trace. He’s a trained attack dog—a bitch-ass nigga eater and menace to society. A hood icon. When Chop rolls up, motherfuckers know to either cover they ass or get a hole bit into it.”

I shook my head. “Oh, please. Chop is a snuggle bug. He’s a sweet, precious baby that deserves endless love and treats. Not a bitch-ass person eater, or whatever the heck you just said. You’re not in the hood anymore, you know.”

“Damn straight. Thank fuck for that.” He rose his glass and downed its contents in one single gulp.

It reminded me of Dad and how he drank like an effing sailor. Which led me to bring up something Mom said, “Frank, my mother seems to believe you and Dad are just alike. Do you have any idea why she thinks that?”

“It’s complicated.” He hastily averted his eyes, his stare fixed on the city before us.

For a second, I regretted the question. There were certain things I knew better than to ask him about. Topics that would make him shut down or instantly change the subject. Since our relationship had grown to a new level, I thought he’d be more inclined to answer. Maybe I was wrong.

But that didn’t stop me from hoping he’d open up. Against my better judgement, I pressed the issue. “If it’s complicated, then help me understand.”

He didn’t respond.

“You don’t have to hide things from me,” I said. “You’re my best frien—you’re my boyfriend. No secrets between us, remember?” I reached over and took his hand. “I trust you. What’s stopping you from trusting me?”

His phone rang in his pocket and I scoffed, knowing he’d use it as an excuse to get away. He stood. The moment that stupid phone appeared in his hand, I snatched it from him, rejected the call, and put it aside.

“Sit,” I demanded, shooting him a look that dared him to argue. “We’re not done here.”

His sculpted jaw clenched. He leaned down until we were eye-to-eye, his hands gripping the armrests, caging me in. His gaze was hard, unflinching, burning through me. His recklessly beautiful body towered over mine and my pulse kicked, desire warmed me to the core. I wanted him with an all-consuming ferocity. The depth of my yearning was beyond all reason and undeniable.

Tension split the air between us. Chop must have sensed it, because his ears abruptly perked up and he hopped off my lap, speeding for his doghouse.

“You want me to do somethin’ for you?” Franklin asked gruffly.

I managed a nod, licking my dry lips.

“Then ask. Nicely.” His voice was dark. Dangerous even. “Don’t mistake my tolerance for weakness.”

I hesitated, taking a moment to find my voice. Jeez, he was the literal definition of tall, dark, and dangerously sexy. But for my sake, it was probably best if I didn’t push his buttons any further. I pressed an apologetic kiss to his lips. “Can you sit down and talk to me? Please?”

He visibly relaxed and sank into his seat gracefully. “Yeah, I can, Trace.”

I sighed heavily, somewhat relieved for the space. With all that striking masculinity and power hovering over me, I wasn’t sure how much longer I could go without ripping his clothes off.

He refilled his glass and took a thoughtful sip. “The shitload of bread you livin’ off, yo’ pops didn’t make it himself.”

“What do you mean?”

“He had help. My help.” He paused, swallowing deeply. “I was in a real bad situation when we met. Broke and gangbanging. Hustling and puttin’ my fuckin’ life on the line for scraps. I ain’t proud of it, but it’s typical hood shit you gotta do to survive.”

“You couldn’t find work?” I asked.

“Shit, would you hire a dude that looks like me?”

My gaze roamed over his powerfully flawless physique. “Heck yes, I would. In a heartbeat.”

His mouth curved into a wry smile. “You’re biased as hell, girl.”

“No, I’m being honest.” I stuck my tongue out at him.

He reached over and brushed his fingers over my cheek, warmth flowing through me from the fiercely affectionate gesture. “I ain't got no degree. No diploma. No GED. And most motherfuckers labeled me a thug the moment they saw me. Findin’ legit work in South Los Santos was a real bitch. Yo’ pops pulled me outta the bullshit. Taught me a lot. Helped me better myself. If I never crossed paths with Mike…” He grimaced. “Shit, I try not to think ‘bout it.”

I stared at him blankly. I couldn’t even begin to understand the things he’s been through. We both came from two vastly different worlds. There were some intrinsic things about him that I could never quite relate to. But I wanted to understand. To get to know him better.

I shifted onto my side to face him. “What was it like? Growing up in South Los Santos?”

“Hell.” He grinned, although it sounded self-deprecating and humorless. “I mean, it was cool sometimes. But most of the time…” His voice trailed off.

Sensing his darkening mood, I tried to lighten the conversation. “It couldn’t have been that bad, right? I’m sure you had some friends from school to keep you company. People you cared about.”

Franklin was silent for some time. I didn’t push him to speak like I normally did. It was a difficult, emotionally triggering topic of discussion for him, and it was important that he felt comfortable confiding in me—that his words came out naturally. No pressure involved. He’d speak when the time was right.

And he eventually did.

“There’s a reason I hate the summer,” he spoke quietly, his expression grim. “When it was cold and storming, Forum Drive was an a’ight place to live. Everybody kept to themselves, stayed indoors for the most part, and minded their own damn business. Then summer rolled around, and niggas started makin’ moves again. Slingin’ drugs and gang signs in broad daylight. Fucking with the police. Fireworks went off from mornin’ ‘til midnight. The shit made me paranoid. Couldn’t tell if it was gunshots or not.”

I rose and gravitated to him. With my finger, I smoothed the frown line between the arrogant slash of his eyebrows.

“Motherfuckers up and disappeared in the summer,” he went on. “Then new neighbors moved in, and the motherfucking cycle continued. When I was a kid, I’d hide in bed whenever the stray bullets started flyin’. Shit, I thought the covers would protect me.”

“Oh.” My heart broke for him. “Thank God you made it out. If something happened to you…if we never met—”

My phone rang. I froze in place staring at the screen. _Dad…_

 _Do I pick up and tell him where I am? Or do I lie?_ _Crap, crap, crap!_ What if Mom told Dad the truth? What if he’s calling to tell me how many different ways and scenarios he was going to break my boyfriend’s bones with his bare hands? He’s threatened to do it before! _This wouldn’t be the first time!_

Dad always had to ruin a good thing. Violently because he was too much of a friggin’ maniac to talk things out like an adult. I couldn’t let Franklin get hurt. How could I live with myself if he was harmed over me?

My vision wavered behind unshed tears. I paced the yard’s illuminated walkway, my heart in turmoil and my mind in an uproar. I had an important decision to make, and I had to make it now.

Did I love Franklin enough to leave him? Or did I love him enough to leave my family?

“Trace?” Franklin watched me pace, his expression filled with uneasy worry. “You good, baby? What’s wrong?”

I grew still. Hearing my boyfriend call out to me, distraught and anxious over my erratic behavior—something snapped inside me. Something that made me fling my phone off the goddamn terrace. The cracking sound it made when it hit the ground was so satisfying. Finally, the ringing stopped.

“What the fuck?” Franklin shot up. His gaze frantically searched the darkness over the fence for where my phone landed. “Babe, yo’ phone—why did you—”

“ _Screw that fucking phone!_ ” I exploded, pulling at the roots of my hair. “Dad probably has a tracker in that thing! We can’t trust it!”

His mouth twitched with amusement. “I mean, knowin’ yo’ pops…he probably does.”

“Frank, this is serious. Look at me.” I touched his shoulder.

He turned. “Look, whatever’s goin’ on, I’m sure it ain’t a big deal. We’ll work through it, a’ight? Everythin’ finna be okay. Just calm down—”

“No! I’m not gonna calm down until you’re safe.” I spun away and stomped into the house. Skipping down the stairs two steps at a time, I swerved into Franklin’s bedroom and grabbed an empty gym bag lying in the corner.

Franklin stood in the doorway with his arms crossed as I yanked open his clothing drawers. “Trace, what in the hell are you doin’?”

“We’re leaving,” I declared, shoving clothes into his bag. “Go get your toothbrush and the rest of the stuff you need, okay? We need to get the fuck out of Los Santos right now.”

“Uh-huh,” he replied, calm and strangely composed despite the severity of the situation. “And where exactly are we goin’?”

“Anywhere that’s away from my batshit crazy father.” I zipped up his fully packed bag and dropped it at his feet. “What are you waiting for? Why are you just standing there?”

“The family you tryin’ so hard to run away from—you’re actin’ just as crazy as them right now, Trace. And you don’t even fuckin’ realize it.”

“Oh my God!” Tears of frustration ran down the corners of my eyes. “I-I’m trying to protect you.”

“Girl, I don’t need no protection. I can handle myself.”

“You’re wrong. You don’t know my dad as well as you think you do.”

“I’m a grown-ass man, a’ight? You ain’t gotta fight my battles for me.” Franklin gently clasped the nape of my neck and drew me to him, our foreheads touched. “If yo’ pops has a problem with us, then I’ll handle it when the time comes. _I’ll_ deal with it. We’ll talk and work some shit out—”

“My father can’t be reasoned with, he’s insane! He’s a murderer!” I pulled away. A dry sob burned my throat, but I refused to let it out. “I’m not letting you put your life on the line for me. You’re going to get yourself killed! Stop being so fucking difficult!” 

The wounded and confused look on his face was physical painful to witness.

Was I overreacting? Was I just as crazy as the rest of my family? 

Pressing his lips into a fine line, he leaned against the door and scrubbed a shaky hand over his face. He looked exhausted. Drained. I could feel our connection fading by the second. My heart dropped.

After a long period of silence, he was the first to speak. “Maybe you should go back to the crib and think—”

“I love you,” I mumbled.

He visibly shook, his gaze snapped to me. “What…what’d you say?”

“ _I love you_ ,” I repeated, louder this time. “I love you so much—”

Franklin crossed the room in a single stride and claimed my lips in a fierce kiss. The intensity of his passion set my body aflame, melting at the feel of his tongue slowly caressing and gliding over mine. In that moment, he wanted me just as badly as I wanted him, his mouth demanding and greedy. He kissed me until my lips burned from his possession, and even then, I craved more.

I touched his stomach, loving the way his abdomen hardened beneath my palm. “Frank…”

He buried his face in the crook of my neck, ravishing my skin with tiny love bites. “Liberty City,” he murmured between kisses. “You wanna go?”

“Yes,” I closed my eyes, focusing on the pleasure of our connection. “You can’t stay here. _I_ can’t stay here.”

He stepped back to look into my eyes, his gorgeous hazel gaze soft and tender. With a gentle sweep, he wiped the tears from my cheeks with the pad of his thumb. “Wherever you go, baby, I’ll follow you.”

Giggling with shameless delight, I jumped into my boyfriend’s arms, my legs wrapped around his waist. “Road trip!”

He laughed, twirling me around as he peppered my face with the big, adoring kisses. The gentle strength of his loving arms rocked the very depths of my soul. Finally, I found the love I was always looking for. This whole time, it was staring me right in the face.

My best friend. My boyfriend. My everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Oh my god, it's finally finished! Lol, thank you so much to everyone who's been reading this from the beginning and leaving comments, I love you guys. Thank you so much for the support, I really hope you enjoyed the story! Now that this is done, I'll be turning my attention to some work I haven't finished yet -cough- suits and shades -cough-. I feel terrible not completing my WIPs so look forward to seeing some updates for my old fics soon!
> 
> Love you guys, thank you!


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